Cause of Death
by Ailodierap
Summary: The entire city of San Francisco has been terrorized by the repeated killings of a mysterious murderer dubbed as 'The Maskmaker'. FBI Agent Jade West is called in from Washington to assist Police Detective Beck Oliver with the toughest, most dangerous case San Francisco has seen in the last fifteen years. AU Bade-centric fic! I do not own anything.
1. The Third Victim

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Sophie Ellison woke up with a start, struggling to open her eyes.

_Nnh… my head… what happened? Where am I?_

Sophie tried to rise to her feet, and discovered her wrists were bound. A bare bulb shone overhead, just barely illuminating the dingy corner of the cold and dark room.

_The last thing I remember is the club…_

Turning her head, Sophie could see a man standing at a workbench, a white, featureless mask covering his face, with two eye slits being the only defining features. The man was decked out all in black: black jeans, a black hoodie, black boots and a pair of black gloves. Sophie's frail mind instantly drew a connection to Death, and not surprisingly either.

The man had not noticed her yet. He was focused on methodically laying out some tools: a scalpel, a palette knife and a bucket.

_Oh my god… oh my god!_

Sophie's heart was pounding out of her chest so hard that she thought the man could hear it. Her breathing quickened in panic as she examined the whole room for some kind of way of escaping this nightmare room.

Just to her left, Sophie could barely make out a narrow flight of stairs. Using the corner of the wall as a brace, she unsteadily rose to her feet and quietly made her way towards the staircase.

For one brief moment, Sophie thought she would escape. That everything would be okay and that she would go home, see her family and friends again, and everything would be back to normal. Sweet normal.

The step creaked.

The man sprang into action as though some unfathomable deity had just pressed his 'On' switch. Spinning around and dropping the scalpel, the man charged towards Sophie, who had already begun racing frantically up the stairs.

With her heart in her throat, Sophie swung the door open and stumbled outside.

"Oh my god…" Sophie uttered in defeat.

She was standing on the deck of a boat, gazing out at the rocky shores of Alcatraz Island. The rain poured down in bucket-loads and thunderclouds boomed just on the horizon. The ocean spray stung against Sophie's cheeks as she struggled to take in just where she was. What was going to happen to her.

No escape.

_No… no!_

The masked man emerged from the lower decks, holding in his left hand a syringe. Looking down, Sophie could see choppy waves pound against the hull and, for one brief moment, she considered just jumping in and denying this sadistic man the satisfaction of murdering her.

He was going to murder her.

She was going to die.

Sophie Ellison was going to die out in the middle of the ocean and no one would ever know what had happened.

Accepting the fact that Death had come for her filled the teenage redhead with a strange sense of confidence.

"You won't get away with this!" She yelled, inching further and further away from the every-approaching psychopath in front of her. "If you hurt me, the police will come after you!"

The man spoke for the first time, his voice completely muffled by the mask to the point that there was no hope of recognising the voice. "I'm positively shaking."

He took another step towards Sophie who, in panic, wildly swung her bound hands at him.

"Get away from me, you… you…" Sophie began, struggling to find a word hateful enough to even possibly embody her feelings of defeat and anger.

The masked man grabbed Sophie's wrists and forced her to the ground.

"No more running." He ordered calmly.

With surgical precision, the man jabbed the syringe into Sophie's neck, eliciting a scream from the young girl.

_What did he just give me? I feel…_

The world blurred around Sophie. Without warning, her body went limp. Paralyzed. She could just barely make out the man picking her up and carrying her back down the creaky staircase to the nightmare room. She couldn't even feel his gloved hands on her back.

He laid Sophie on the workbench and, stroking the side of her face with his right hand, reached out with his left hand to grab a tool that Sophie, through her blurred vision, could not even recognize.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." He reassured the half-unconscious teenager. He dipped a palette knife into a bucket, applying a layer of plaster across Sophie's pale face. "I'm just going to show the world your true face."

The masked man continued to work, covering her mouth and nostrils, but leaving her eyes for last. Sophie struggled, but she couldn't move. Her limbs lay dead at her sides as her lungs began to burn for air.

_I… I..._

Her vision began to dim.

_Th… I… dead…_

For one brief moment, the sensation she felt was almost a relief, like stepping into a hot shower for the first time on a cold winter morning and letting the relaxation wash over you. Sophie felt her troubles slipping away.

Then the darkness swallowed her.

* * *

"Come on, Diego, what are you waiting for? I don't have all day." Beck Oliver urged the man sitting across the dirty, wooden table from him. Beck was sat in a back-alley bar in the middle of a game of Texas Hold-Em Poker.

The heavily tattooed young man sat across from Beck, twitching nervously.

"I'm thinking, man, I'm thinking…" He replied so softly that Beck could hear the blaring TV hanging from the corner of the ceiling over Diego's voice.

"The serial killer dubbed 'The Maskmaker' continues to elude capture, frustrating law enforcement…" The reporter read out.

"Hey, you hear about this Maskmaker guy, Beck? Killing girls, making masks out of their faces… pretty sick, huh?" Diego averted, turning towards the TV.

"How about you leave the detective work to me, Diego, and focus on the game? You gonna make a bet or not?" Beck insisted with growing irritation.

Diego glanced at his two cards, and a grin spread across his face.

"Sure, I'm in for thirty." Diego confirmed.

Beck looked down at his own cards. Nothing but a pair of fours, but Beck's gut feeling was that Diego had even less. Having been taught from a young age to always trust your gut instincts, Beck bluffed.

"I raise a hundred." Beck said confidently, eliciting a bewildered stare from his opponent.

"What? No way, man, you… you don't got it. No way you got anything." Diego denied nervously.

"Then call it, Diego. Put your money where your mouth is." Beck persisted, a subtle smirk forming on his face.

"Ahhh, screw this, man. I fold." Diego sighed in defeat, placing his two cards on the table as Beck reached across and gathered up the pot.

"Cheer up. One of these days, your luck will turn." Beck consoled the frustrated man.

Diego reached over and began to shuffle the cards as a tall, muscly man strode over to their table.

"Beck." The man greeted with a slight nod of the head.

"Well, this is unexpected. What are you doing here, André?" Beck quizzed his old friend.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here… gambling away with these other shady, unkempt lowlifes." André said, looking around in disgust.

"Hey, I might be shady and a lowlife, but I'm very well kempt." Beck joked with a chuckle.

André shrugged the joke off. "Anyway, the Captain sent me to find you. You're needed on a case."

"I thought I was suspended until the end of next week?" Beck pondered, confused.

"You were. Now you're not" André informed him bluntly. "Let's go."

"You got suspended?" Diego asked, "What'd you do?"

"None of your business." Beck dismissed the question. "Now beat it, would you? I've got work to do."

"Whatever." Diego scoffed, rising from his chair and storming off.

"What's the big rush, anyway?" Beck questioned his colleague.

"Captain Vega wants you to head up the Maskmaker Task Force." André answered.

"Since when is there a Maskmaker Task Force?" Beck chuckled.

"Since we just found another victim. Let's go." André replied as Beck got up from his seat and quickly pulled on his coat. "Oh, and by the way…" André continued as he and Beck walked towards the door.

"Yeah?"

"It's good to have you back, Beck." André finished, cracking a smile.

* * *

**Half an hour later…**

Beck drove his car down the streets of San Francisco. Sitting in the passenger seat was his superior: Captain Tori Vega.

"I gotta tell you, Captain, as much as I'm glad to be back, I thought Detective Blackwell was handling the Maskmaker case." Beck pondered.

"He was when the victims were all prostitutes. This new one's a college girl. When the press gets word of this, the public is going to go crazy. And whether I like it or not, you're the best detective I've got." Tori admitted with a shrug.

"I appreciate it." Beck said.

"That doesn't mean you're off the hook!" Tori warned the detective. "I want this one by-the-book, Detective. You understand that? By-the-book."

"You've got my word. I won't let you down, Captain." Beck confirmed with a nod as he pulled out at a junction in the road.

"Good. And you might want to let your wife know you'll be home late." The Captain suggested.

"Yeah, I'll, uh, give her a call in a bit." Beck quickly replied, clearing his throat with a small cough. "First, why don't you give me the basics on the case?"

"This is the third murder matching this M.O. we've had in three months. The victims were young women, age 20-25, who washed up dead near the waterfront." Tori informed Beck. She let out a deep sigh, and continued. "All of them had plaster masks molded to their faces. We can't definitively ID this latest victim until we run her DNA against a comparison sample, but the student ID in her wallet says she's Sophie Ellison of Stanford University." Tori let out another exasperated sigh as Beck nodded, absorbing all the vital information she was giving him. "I've already called the tech team. They'll fill you in on this victim when we get there. Any questions?" Tori finished.

"I'd like some more information on the murders." Beck pressed the matter, wanting to gather as much information as he possibly could in hopes of making some kind of link back to the case.

"All three victims are Caucasian females in their early 20s. The first body washed up on a beach north of the Marina. The second was caught in nets near Fisherman's Wharf." Tori said.

"What was the cause of death?" Beck asked as he pulled the car to a stop at a red light.

"The cause of death for the first two victims was strangulation. The masks were made post-mortem."

Beck nodded in understanding. "Any sign of a struggle?"

"The first two victims exhibited no signs of a struggle, no signs of sexual assault. Both victims had traces of chloroform in their systems." She continued.

"So he drugged them, strangled them, and then made masks of their faces?" Beck asked, quickly driving away from the street lights as they turned green.

"Exactly. For all we know, the women were knocked out when they died. They may not have felt a thing." Tori theorized.

"How very gentle of him." Beck remarked sarcastically. "Any leads?"

Tori sighed in irritation. "No. That's the most infuriating part. Forensics has found nothing on any of the bodies. We've got no witnesses, no DNA, and no perps in our system with priors matching this M.O. Our killer is precise, methodical, and extremely efficient. He knows who to target and how to cover his trail."

"He'll slip up. They always do." Beck reassured his Captain as he pressed on the brake at another red light. "I'll catch this guy, Captain."

"I hope you can, Detective… before he kills again."

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

A cold breeze blew over Beck's face as he and Tori arrived at a series of run-down docks just a few blocks away from Fisherman's Wharf. By the water, Beck noticed an all-too-familiar sight: a circle roped off by police tape and a huddle of grim-faced officers.

Beck and Tori pushed past several officers and walked into the circle. Lying on her back by the water was a young, well-dressed girl with a firm plaster mask molded around her face.

"Ah, hell…" Beck cursed under his breath.

"The body was found by some fishermen coming back from their morning trawl." Tori spoke up, her arms crossed across her body for warmth. "Judging by the look of her, she spent the night in the water."

"She was dumped in the ocean… but the mask stayed on?" Beck pondered in confusion.

"Believe me, we're having a hell of a time getting it off. Our killer knew what he was doing." Tori insisted.

Beck walked cautiously towards the body, when a young, dark-haired woman in a dark suit stepped out from the circle and snapped a picture. Beck held his arm out in front of her to move her away.

"Miss, please step away from the crime scene." Beck ordered her professionally and calmly.

"Well I would, but that would make doing my job more difficult." The woman replied, reaching into her pocket and flashing an FBI ID badge.

"You're with the FBI?" Beck questioned.

"You're got a serial killer on your hands, and the Bureau sent me to assist with profiling. Are we going to have a problem?" The feisty woman asked with a obviously threatening undertone.

"Captain?" Beck turned to Tori.

"I didn't expect them to get someone out here so fast, but yes, I head we'd be receiving assistance from the Bureau." Tori confirmed. "Do me a favour and play nice."

"I'll try not to bite." Beck promised dryly, turning towards the woman and offering his hand. "I'm Detective Beck Oliver."

"Special Agent Jade West." She mirrored the detective, shaking his hand firmly.

"So is it okay if I call you Jade?" Beck wondered out loud.

"You can call me Special Agent West." Jade responded coldly, a scowl emerging on her pale face.

"Well, Special Agent West, mind if I examine the crime scene?"

"Be my guest." Jade nodded.

Beck squatted down to get a better view of the victim.

"She's got no visible wounds on her. No sign of bruising around her neck, and I'm not seeing any head trauma." He examined.

"Even her clothes are neat." Jade pointed out in an almost fascinated tone, squatting beside Beck. "No rips or tears, no obvious signs of struggle… unless our killer meticulously dressed her, I'm betting we get no evidence of sexual assault." Jade's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hmm… that's interesting. This murder is different from the previous victims." Jade pointed out.

Beck nodded in agreement. "You're right, the cause of death is different."

"Yes, that's absolutely correct." Jade confirmed in a tone that sounded… almost impressed?

"The other victims were strangled, but this girl has no bruising on her neck. So how'd she die?" Beck pondered.

"Drowning, maybe?" Jade suggested.

A lanky man in a white shirt approached the pair, his black curls almost bobbing as he walked.

"No, she couldn't have drowned. There's no fluid in her lungs. The victim was dead before her body entered the water." The man dismissed the theory with confidence.

"Uhh, Special Agent West, I'd like you to meet Robbie Shapiro, our forensic technician." Beck introduced the two as Robbie offered out his hand.

Jade never noticed the gesture as she was too busy examining the body. "Well, if she didn't die from drowning or strangulation, what killed her?"

"Look here." Robbie said, pointing a long, pale finger towards the victim's neck. "See this tiny welt? This indicates the victim received an injection just prior to her death."

"The chloroform?" Jade asked.

"No, if this victim is like the others, that was administered via a cloth over the mouth." Robbie discarded the possibility. "We're also seeing some signs of asphyxiation. Look at the petechial haemorrhaging behind the ears. That would suggest her airways were obstructed."

Beck's eyes lit up as he pieced together the clues in his mind.

"Son of a… he killed her with the mask!" he exclaimed.

"Come again?" Robbie replied, quite bewildered.

Beck leaned down, gently moving the girl's head to the side, and touched the edge of the mask.

"Look how tightly it's plastered onto her skin. My guess is he drugged her, plastered over her face, and let her suffocate to death." Beck theorized.

"Then this crime is even more different than I thought." Jade remarked, her façade of confidence slipping momentarily. "He made the mask while his victim was alive instead of doing it after she died..."

"He's evolving." Beck observed grimly.

"Exactly. And when a killer this precise, this methodical, this disciplined, still has room to evolve…"

"That's trouble." Beck concluded.

"Yeah. A lot of it." Jade agreed, the scowl on her face growing again.

"Hey! Beck! You might want to see this!" a colleague of Beck's grabbed his attention as he held a blacklight over the body. "Look what I found on her arm!"

The officer shined the blacklight on the inside of the girl's wrists, revealing a stamp. A circle of animals from the Chinese zodiac.

Beck clicked his fingers in recognition.

"Wait a minute, I know that stamp. That's from the Zen Club in Chinatown. It's an upscale bar and karaoke club. Given how crisp the image is, I'm guessing she was there last night." Beck informed the others.

"Someone there must have seen something." Jade said.

"Well, Special Agent West, looks like we just got a lead."

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? I've never given Bade anything close to this much attention before in a story (not including my parodies of them in That's So Original!) so that's something to consider. Leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	2. The Suspect

**HOLY CRAP 10 reviews in a few hours? THANK YOU! I was going to hold this off until later today, but you guys have earned it. Here's the second chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Jade went over her paperwork in stony silence as Beck drove his little, run-down car to Chinatown. Wanting to break the awkward silence, Beck attempted to strike up a conversation.

"Not much of a talker, are you? Too busy profiling?" Beck chuckled.

"As a matter of fact, Detective, I am. And I'm not sure I understand why you find that so amusing." Jade responded bitterly.

"It's just… come on. That pop psych stuff probably sounded great in a classroom at Quantico, but it's not going to find us this killer." Beck said.

"Oh really? And what _is _going to help us find this killer?" Jade tested the overconfident man.

"Real policework. Hitting the street. Grilling witnesses. Following my gut." Beck argued.

"Oh please." Jade scoffed. "Spare me the 'tough cop' routine, will you? I've worked with enough detectives to know it's all an act."

"And you think you know me that well? Have you profiled me?" Beck asked.

"As a matter of fact, Detective, I have. Would you like to hear it?" Jade countered triumphantly.

"Absolutely not." Beck answered without hesitation.

Jade let out a condescending chuckle. "Defensive, much?"

"I'm not defensive. I'd just rather not hear about how my mother was overindulgent, and that's why I like blondes." Beck stated calmly.

The uneasy silence lingered for no more than a second or two.

"I actually had you pegged as more of a redhead man." Jade admitted.

"You want to see profiling, Special Agent West? How about I tell you what my gut thinks of you?" Beck twisted the conversation.

"Be my guest!" Jade obliged, intrigued.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, the local FBI branch is working the Flores Cartel, their biggest organized crime takedown in fifteen years… and yet you're stuck helping us with this." Beck pointed out.

"What are you implying?" Jade pressed, her increasingly-familiar scowl growing yet again.

"You must have pissed someone off." Beck concluded. Jade lost eye contact with Beck for only a split second as she hesitated to find the words to respond, but that was all the confirmation he needed. "I'm right, aren't I? You're on crap detail."

"I'll admit I'm not on the best of terms with my District Chief." Jade sighed defeatedly.

"I knew it! What'd you do? Blow a major lead? Get too cozy with a reporter? Did you shoot someone you weren't supposed to?" Beck interrogated the Special Agent.

Jade crossed her arms and turned away from Beck. "How about you leave the profiling to me, Detective?" Jade spat the words out in anger.

"All right, all right." Beck calmed her. "Just keep your gun hoistered around me, okay?" he joked.

"I make no promises." Jade responded, her gaze fixed firmly on the road.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck and Jade approached an upscale nightclub in the middle of Chinatown. The words 'Zen Club' were hanged over the door in bright neon.

"So how'd you recognize the stamp, anyway? You don't seem like the karaoke type." Jade questioned.

"You're only saying that because you haven't heard me sing." Beck joked.

"Oh really?" Jade replied, a subtle, tiny smirk forming on her face.

"That and I know the owner here. Shady guy, but he helped us out with an investigation a while back." Beck answered as the two stepped into the bar.

A few staff members were running around getting set up for the work day ahead, even though it was way before business hours.

"Ah crap, it's you." The club owner cursed from behind the bar as he polished a set of wine glasses. "Listen, I already told the last cop, I had no idea those kids were under 21."

"Relax, Milo. This isn't about your liquor license." Beck assured the chubby little man. "There's been a homicide. We have reason to believe the victim was here last night."

"We want to know about a redhead in her 20s, with a tattoo of a constellation on her lower back. That ring any bells?" Jade interrogated.

Milo nodded in recognition.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the one. She's a regular!" the man answered joyously. His face suddenly dropped when he put the pieces together in his mind. "Hey, wait… is she… you know?"

"Just tell us. Was she with anyone?" Beck urged the suddenly overwhelmed man.

"Yeah, yeah, she was talking to Jared." Milo informed the pair.

"Jared?" Beck asked.

Milo jerked his thumb across the room. At the other end of the bar, a muscular young man with short, brown hair was wiping down shot glasses.

"Hey, Jared! Some cops here to see you." Milo called, grabbing the man's attention.

"Oh, uh, just give me one sec…" Jared said, stepping away from the bar and tossing his towel on the floor.

Beck suddenly knew what was about to happen and took off running across the club as Jared bolted through the kitchen door.

"Damn! He's getting away!" Beck yelled, jumping over the bar. With Jade in pursuit, Beck tugged on the door handle, only to find it locked. With a grunt, Beck raised his leg and kicked the door in. Beck and Jade rushed into the kitchen as Milo shouted after them.

"Hey! You'd better be paying for that!"

Jared raced through the kitchen, speeding towards the back exit.

"Freeze!" Beck ordered.

Jared grabbed a steel saucepot from a rack and hurled it directly at Beck's head. Beck ducked under the pot and it clattered harmlessly behind him.

Jared sprinted around the stoves and bolted out the back door.

"Stay on him!" Beck yelled to Jade.

"I am!" Jade yelled back as the pair burst out of the door and darted through a tight alley, emerging onto a crowded street. "Where the hell is he?" Jade asked, scanning the area.

"Keep your eyes sharp!" Beck ordered, looking for Jared and his distinctive brown hair. His eyes lit up as he noticed Jared down the street and took off running towards him. "There!"

"FBI! Get out of the way!" Jade yelled, barging civilians out of the way in a rush.

The two sprinted towards Jared, who spun around desperately and darted into the street.

"Jesus!" Beck exclaimed as an SUV swerved right by Jared, almost clipping him. Pulling himself up, Jared kept on running.

"I got him!" Jade said, running out into the street in pursuit.

And straight into the path of an oncoming bus.

Thinking fast, Beck charged forward and tackled Jade forwards, out of the path of the speeding bus.

"Thanks for the assist." Jade said as she stumbled back to her feet.

Beck had already taken off running after Jared again.

"I got this!" Beck reassured her.

Jared made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the street as Beck sprinted after him, hopping over the dash of a cab. Beck was right on his heels and, summoning all his strength and determination, tackled Jared, smashing him into the curb.

"Gotcha!" Beck said, triumphantly.

"Aaaagh! Damn, man! Get off me, pig!" Jared yelled in anger and fear.

Digging into Jared's pockets, Beck quickly found a baggie of little white pills.

"I'm guessing these aren't prescription. What are they? Roofies? GHB? Your secret weapon when it comes to knocking girls out at the club?" Beck questioned the suspect angrily.

"I'm not saying anything until I talk to my attorney!" Jared refused, shaking his head.

Beck kept Jared pinned down for the next few minutes until some uniformed officers showed up and took Jared down to the station for questioning. Brushing the dust off his pants, Beck stood back up on the sidewalk and turned to Jade.

"That was a pretty close call with that bus." He reminded her.

"Yeah, I… it was…" Jade responded, exhausted.

"You doing alright, Special Agent?" Beck asked, blurring the line between concern and teasing.

"I… I am. Thank you, Detective." Jade thanked him, her stony face lightening up slightly.

"Please. Call me Beck." Beck insisted, a warm smile growing on his face.

* * *

**A few hours later…**

As Beck and Jade were waiting outside the interrogation room to go speak to Jared, Captain Vega walked up and pulled Beck aside.

"So, think the kid did it?" The Captain asked.

"No." Beck answered without hesitation. "Kid's a pusher, not a killer."

"Really? As far as we know, he's the last one to see Sophie Ellison alive." Tori pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but…" Beck began to respond, until being interrupted by Tori.

"And what about you, Agent West? What's your take?" Tori asked, turning to the Special Agent.

"He fits the standard serial killer profile. Mid 20s. White. Prior relationship with the victim. But he also works in a highly social profession. Serial killers tend to be detached and awkward around strangers." Jade recited as though she had been practising for this question.

"I doubt that'll be enough for a jury, Special Agent." Tori replied, skeptical.

Robbie walked over.

"Detective, I've got that analysis of the drugs Jared was carrying. It's a morphine derivative called hydromorphone, or hydro." The man informed Beck.

"I know hydro. It's popular with club kids who like a medicine cabinet high." Beck said.

"Overdoses cause dizziness, light-headedness, blackouts…" Robbie began.

"So it could've been what the killer used to incapacitate Sophie?" Jade asked, interrupting Robbie's lecture.

"We'll need the completed tox screen to know for certain, but it's certainly plausible." Robbie began to answer, pausing to push his glasses back up his nose as they had slipped down. "Then again, it's also possible your suspect's just using them to get high."

"Thanks, Rob. I think it's time we had our little chat with Jared." Beck suggested.

Nodding in agreement, Jade entered the interrogation room, followed by Beck. The two sat down across from Jared and his lawyer at the polished, metal table.

"Hello, I'm Catherine Krutzik, I'll be handling Jared's case." His lawyer immediately spoke up in an extremely nasal voice. "You should know that I've advised my client not to speak."

"That's okay. All he needs to do is listen." Beck assured the woman before turning to Jared. "This is about murder."

Jared immediately jolted in his chair.

"Murder?! Why's he talking about murder?" he asked his lawyer in a panic."

"Jared, let me handle this." Catherine calmed the man.

"But…" Jared began to speak.

"I said, stay quiet." Catherine insisted. "Well, Officer, you've succeeded in unnerving my client. Now explain yourself."

"My pleasure." Beck said, subconsciously smiling. "Last night, Sophie Ellison went to the Zen Lounge. Six hours later, she was found dead. Jared, as far as we know, you're the last person who saw her alive."

"Wait… what?! You're saying Sophie…" Jared trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Is dead." Beck finished for him, bluntly. "And right now, the evidence isn't looking good for you. Last one to see her alive… access to illegal drugs… trust me. It'll be better if you start talking now. So what can you tell me about Sophie?" Beck questioned.

Jared hesitated, his gaze down at his lap. After a few silent seconds, Jared raised his head and spoke up.

"Sophie?" He asked, tears welling up in his eyes. "Sophie's just this girl, you know. Cute, fun… we even hooked up a couple of times. Mostly though, she came to me when she wanted to party." Jared answered.

"And last night?" Beck pressed the matter for more information."

"She found me. I fixed her a drink, but that's it!" Jared assured the Detective. "I wouldn't sell her anything harder."

"Why not?" Beck asked.

"Because she looked like she'd already been partying. Unsteady on her feet, you know? Last I saw, she was stumbling towards the rear exit, and then…" Jared continued, his voice trailing off at the end.

"And then?"

"And then nothing. She was just gone. I figured she'd bailed." Jared concluded.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck and Jade watched as uniformed officers escorted Jared back to the holding cells. Catherine, Jared's lawyer, approached the duo.

"Well, any luck verifying my client's alibi?" She asked.

"Yeah. The club owner confirmed Jared was still mixing Mai Tais at Sophie's time of death." Jade confirmed, eliciting a happy sigh from the older woman before her.

"Very good. I want it noted that my client cooperated fully with your investigation." Catherine demanded, before turning tail and walking away.

Captain Vega walked over to the two of them.

"I think we've done all we can today, at least until the Medical Examiner comes back with a full autopsy report tomorrow." She decided.

"I have enough information to draw up a profile. I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning." Jade promised.

"Go home and get some rest. I want you both alert tomorrow." Tori insisted.

Beck and Jade nodded and walked out of the station. The night was cold – the sky hidden behind thick, grey clouds.

"Need a lift to your hotel?" Beck offered.

"It's not far. I'll walk." Jade politely declined, flashing a small smile.

"You did well out there today, you know. Even if we didn't get the right guy." Beck assured the agent.

"You weren't bad yourself, Detec… umm… Beck." Jade responded.

"You have a good night, Special Agent West."

"You too." Jade said, before walking off.

Beck watched Jade walk away. A moment later, André walked up to him.

"That your new Fed partner? She's one good-looking woman. Think I'd have a shot with her?" André joked.

"As far as I can tell? She'd break you in half." Beck chuckled.

"Heh! So, you happy to be back on the force?" André asked, turning to his friend.

"Yeah, I am. I just wish I'd come back under better circumstances." Beck admitted, sighing heavily.

"Well, I bet your wife's happy you're not lying around on the couch all day. How's she doing, by the way?" André inquired. "Things still good with you and Sandra?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Couldn't be better." Beck quickly answered.

"Alright, Beck. I'll catch you later." André said, walking away. "Don't be a stranger!" he called back to Beck.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck parked outside his home and clambered exhaustedly out of the car. He trudged up the dusty, creaky stairs and opened the door, walking into…

A lonely, empty apartment. The lights were off, and packed boxes were sat everywhere.

_Damn. The light's still out. I really ought to fix that one of these days._

On the far side of the room, Beck's answering machine was blinking. Although Beck's initial response was to ignore it and just go to bed, the curiosity had overcome him before he had even reached his bedroom and so he walked over to the answering machine and hit 'play'.

"Hey Beck. It's, um… it's me."

Sandra.

"I wanted you to know that I'm going to come by at the end of the week to pick up the last of my stuff. I know you're not going to return this call, because you don't want to deal with this or anything else… but just don't make this difficult, okay? I'll leave my key when I'm done. Goodbye, Beck."

The machine beeped.

_Well, that's not what I needed to hear right now. Talk about one hell of a day._

Beck shoved past the stacks of boxes, opened the bedroom door and sprawled out on his small bed.

Sleep didn't come easily.

* * *

**And the plot thickens, slightly. Hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Remember to keep reviewing with your feedback!**

**Guest (anonymous): IS Beck married? Nott so sure about that anymore, huh? ;)**

**Nic: Well if you _demand _it, how can I refuse?**

**Belle: What can I say? I'm a lot smarter than I often let on. And I hope this will continue to be impressive too. Thanks!**

**Nikki: YOU STOPPED READING LIGHT ARE YOU INSANE?! BUT THANK YOU.**

**Guest (anonymous): The basic premise of the story is, yes.**


	3. Negotiations

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Jade sat at the table in her hotel suite. The early morning sunlight was shining in through the blinds.

In front of her, Jade's laptop was open. She was reading through the standard serial killer profile.

_The majority of serial killers are Caucasian males, age 20-30. They are highly intelligent. They also tend to come from unstable families where they endured severe emotional, physical, or sexual abuse._

Jade went to search for more when her phone began to ring. She checked the caller ID.

_It's District Chief Blaire._

"Hello, sir." Jade greeted her superior.

"Special Agent West. How's the investigation going?" the elderly man asked.

"It's proceeding as expected." Jade assured him.

"Oh?" Blaire responded, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I've prepared a preliminary psychological profile of the killer and am cooperating with the local police forces." She continued.

"Good, good. I appreciate your diligence."

"Thank you, sir." Jade let out a subtle sigh of relief.

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you are being watched very closely on this assignment, Agent West. Very closely." Blaire reminded her sternly.

"I… I know, sir." Jade said softly.

"After the Miami debacle, you're on extremely thin ice. Anything short of excellence will be unsatisfactory."

"I understand." Jade nodded.

For one second, Jade was reliving that moment, six months ago… the dank, claustrophobic apartment… the sweltering Miami sun… the sobbing of an infant… and above all, the report of pistols…

And a howling shriek of pain.

"Is…" Jade began, almost choking on her own spit. "Is there any word on Agent Mallory's recovery?"

An uneasy pause.

"He's in physical therapy. There are some good signs, but… they doubt he'll ever walk again." Blaire informed her grimly.

"I…" Jade hesitated as she struggled to find the words to say. "I have to go, sir. I'm giving a briefing at the station in half an hour."

"You've got one shot at this, Special Agent West. Don't screw it up."

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later…**

Jade strode into the police bullpen. All around her, police detectives worked busily. Beck noticed her and approached from across the station.

"Well, Special Agent, have you prepared a profile for us to follow?" He asked.

"As a matter of fact, I have." Jade responded.

"If you need any help presenting it, let me know. The guys here can be a little… rough." Beck offered, flashing a smile.

"I think I'll be fine." Jade chuckled, turning to the noisy room. "Hey!" Jade yelled, "Eyes front and center! Now!"

The room went quiet as all eyes fell on the dark-haired woman.

"I've prepared a profile of the Maskmaker that should help you exclude suspects who don't meet the necessary criteria. Based on my research, the age of the Maskmaker is most likely 20-40." Jade presented.

"That makes sense. The guy would need to be old enough to have refined his technique, but young enough to be physically intimidating." Beck agreed.

"Exactly. Next, we can expect the Maskmaker to be an introvert." Jade continued.

"Someone that precise and compulsive has got to be an introvert. I can't imagine him telling raunchy jokes at the water cooler." Beck chuckled.

"Exactly!" Jade repeated. "Finally, we can expect the Maskmaker to be highly intelligent."

"Exactly what I've been saying. If this guy were your average creep, he'd have slipped up already." Beck pointed out.

"Absolutely. The Maskmaker is methodical and disciplined. And given his access to pharmaceuticals, we can assume he has access to a hospital or clinic." Jade concluded.

"Like a doctor?" Tori spoke up.

"Could be. Or a vet or an orderly." Jade theorized.

"Okay, thanks, Agent West. I'm sure this profile will be a big help. Everyone, back to work." Tori ordered as all the police officers scattered.

"Not bad, Special Agent." Beck said. "Then again, it was nothing my gut didn't already tell me." He joked.

"Yeah, yeah." Jade dismissed the joke.

"Come on. Let's swing by the lab and see if the techs have found anything." Beck suggested, earning a nod of agreement from Jade.

Beck led the FBI agent down into a sophisticated crime lab in the basement of the police station. Robbie stood over a microscope, going over a series of slides. Hearing the two enter, Robbie looked up.

"Ah, Detective Oliver. Special Agent… well, actually, I'm not sure I caught your name." Robbie reminded her awkwardly.

"Special Agent West." Jade introduced herself.

"Aaah."

"Robbie, did you find anything in Sophie's autopsy?" Beck questioned.

"Bruising on her lungs and throat suggest mechanical asphyxiation. Your death-by-mask theory certainly looks solid." Robbie informed the Detective.

"Did you identify what she was drugged with?" Jade asked.

"Excellent question, but no. Whatever compound the killer used was out of her system by the time we found her." Robbie sighed.

"I was afraid you'd say that." Jade admitted.

"I can tell it was a paralytic, hospital grade, but beyond that I've got nothing." Robbie told her.

Suddenly, there was an excited squeal from the other side of the room. Everyone turned to see a perky, young, redheaded woman seated in front of a row of computers.

"Beck! Beck! I've got something!" the woman shouted excitedly.

"Special Agent West, meet our technical analyst and data specialist, Cat Valentine." Beck introduced the two women. "Cat, meet our FBI liasion, Jade West."

"Oh! Hi! Nice to meet you! You're really pretty!" Cat squealed.

"Now then, what did you find?" Beck asked, grabbing her attention again.

Cat pointed to one of her monitors, where several complex images were overlaid for comparison.

"We ran ammonium acetate and cross-acid absorption tests and discovered trace iron impurities in the quartz!" Cat informed everyone.

"Umm… what? I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you just said." Jade replied, irritated.

"That makes two of us!" Beck chuckled.

"Oh. Sorry." Cat said, calming down slightly. "What I meant to say was that I ran a chemical analysis on the plaster in the masks and found trace iron impurities in the quartz."

"Uh… okay. So?" Beck pondered.

"So this particular composition indicates that the plaster was imported from Southern Europe. Tuscany, if I'm not mistaken." Cat informed him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard at incredible speed. Images flashed on the monitor faster than anyone could keep track. "Now we just bring up regional shipping manifests… cross-reference them against local art supply specialty stores… and voila!" Cat clapped her hands in victory. "There's only one business in the greater San Francisco area that imports it's plaster directly from Southern Europe. It's called 'Italia Imports and Exports' and it's located down by the waterfront. And get this: according to their website they also deal in exotic masks."

The three of them leaned over the monitor, bewildered but also impressed.

"Well done, Cat." Robbie praised the woman.

Beck turned to Jade.

"Let's roll."

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck drove his car down to the waterfront with Jade in the passenger seat.

"Your technician is quite the character." Jade commented.

"Robbie? Yeah, he can be pretty aloof… but he's damn smart." Beck responded.

"I was actually talking about Cat." Jade corrected him. "You don't meet many people that chipper in our line of work. It's refreshing."

"Yeah, Cat's one of a kind. She's a technical genius, you know… there's no one out there that can work imaging and analysis software the way she can. As far as I know, she grew up in a pretty sheltered home and hasn't had a ton of real-world experience. I think it helps her keep her distance. That and rarely leaving the lab." Beck chuckled. "You and I look at murder victims and see husbands, wives, children… she only sees the puzzle."

"Hey, I think we're here." Jade pointed out, prompting Beck to pull the car over.

The two got out of the car and found themselves standing before a pretty shabby building.

"This is it: Italia Imports and Exports." Beck read out from the crooked, dusty sign hanging above the door.

"That's not your typical mall storefront, is it? Can't imagine it gets many customers…" Jade observed, examining the building with great interest.

"Me, I prefer buying my creepy deathmasks online." Beck joked. "Come on. Let's go in."

Beck and Jade stepped into the building. The shelves were lined with exotic masks. A carved, wooden face with a straw mane was staring down at Jade with blank eyes.

"Well, that's creepy." Jade remarked.

"It was _meant _to be." Said a voice from the other end of the shop.

A tall, lanky man strode over.

"That's an Iroquois False Face mask. Tribal shamans used masks like that one to frighten off evil spirits." The man educated her.

"Interesting." Jade commented, blurring the line between fascination and sarcasm. "And you are…?"

"Hello. My name is Boggs. Lance Boggs. Tell me, miss, are you a fellow mask aficionado? If so, you've come to the right place." The man introduced himself, gripping her hand and shaking it.

"Actually, I'm Special Agent West of the FBI, and this is Detective Oliver." Jade informed him, gesturing to herself and then to Beck.

"That's… unexpected. I take it this house call is in regards to the Maskmaker killings?" Lance assumed, shiftily eyeing the rear exit.

"And why would you think that?" Beck pressed, clearly suspicious of the shady old character before him.

"It, uh, hardly takes a genius to put two and two together, Detective. The Bureau wouldn't waste an agent on just any crime, and I do happen to share the Maskmaker's distinctive obsession." Lance defended himself.

"Mr. Boggs, we're here because the Maskmaker is using plaster acquired from _your _business to murder innocent women. We need to take a look at your records." Beck ordered sternly.

"I'm afraid that would be a waste of your time, Detective. I run a _cash-only _operation. As such, our records are rather… incomplete." Lance dismissed the request.

"Gotcha. You don't want cops like me knowing about the black market antiques that move through this dump." Beck downright accused.

"I assume you have evidence to back up that accusation, Officer, or do I need to call my attorney?" Lance countered, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Go ahead. Make the call! We'll see who…" Beck teased before being interrupted.

"Detective, take it easy." Jade warned him.

"But…" Beck began to argue.

"One moment please, Mr. Boggs." Jade excused herself, nudging Beck to go outside. Beck obliged and stepped outside, followed by Beck.

Beck paced the sidewalk frustratedly as Jade crept outside and shut the door so as to talk in privacy.

"What are you doing?" Beck asked. "That creep is lying to us. I can feel it!"

"I agree, but he's not going to cooperate with us if you keep badgering him, and we definitely don't have enough to book him." Jade reasoned. "But I think if we play along with him, we can get him to talk." She suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"And what makes you so sure about that?" Beck asked.

"Because Lance Boggs is an unprincipled narcissist with an innate compulsion to impress those around him." Jade explained.

"Okay, and that means…?" Beck asked, confused.

"It means he'll talk to me if I push the right buttons."

"You've got ten minutes. I'll be listening in through the window. And be careful… he might not look like much, but he could be dangerous." Beck warned her.

Nodding in understanding, Jade entered the shabby building once again. Lance stepped up behind her, holding a box cutter.

"You again." He said bitterly. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to apologize for my partner. He can be a little… uncouth." Jade said.

Lance scoffed.

"Uncouth. Boorish. Impertinent. He sickens me." He commented in disgust.

"It's like the Aristotle wrote: 'Those who render justice through force instead render all justice unjust.'" Jade quoted.

"Ah! An educated woman!" Lance smiled, clearly impressed. He stepped closer, the box cutter in his right hand glinting in the sunlight shining in through the window. "Please, my dear, allow me to show you something." Lance grabbed a nearby box and sliced it open with the box cutter, revealing inside it three unique masks.

"Those are very impressive pieces." Jade remarked.

"Oh really? Any piece in particular?" Lance pressed.

Jade examined the masks inside the box.

One was a black demon mask with horns and an evil grin.

One was a wooden mask with a human figure on top.

And one was a white plaster mask of a young woman's face.

"Yes," Jade began, in response to Lance's question, "I like the female mask." She answered, nodding towards the white plaster mask on the right side of the box.

"Oh, you like the L'Inconnue de la Seine? Good choice. I must confess; it's a favourite of mine, as well. The original was created by a pathologist at the Paris Morgue in the late 1880s. He was so taken by the beauty of a drowned girl that he preserved the image of her in plaster." Lance educated Jade, who was already starting to make the links back to the case. The cogs in her brain were turning.

"Plaster mask. Body in the water. Kind of sounds like the Maskmaker, doesn't it?" Jade pointed out.

"Oh, you're right! Only in Sophie's case, the mask was made first, and then her body was dumped overboard."

"Did you just say, 'Sophie'?" Jade asked, her tone becoming deadly serious.

"Well, yes, the third victim… is there something wrong?" Lance asked, nervously.

"Only that we deliberately kept Sophie's name out of the press." Jade reminded him.

"Oh, heh heh, I'm sure I must've read it somewhere…" Lance struggled to defend himself. "Because I… I…" Unable to find the words, Mr. Boggs turned to run...

And bumped straight into Beck.

Beck grabbed Lance's shoulders and slammed him against a shelf.

"Lance Boggs, you are under arrest for the murder of Sophie Ellison, Chanelle Pomeroy…" Beck began to recite.

"No! Wait! Wait! I'm _not _the Maskmaker! I've just been talking to him!" Lance admitted in a frenzied panic.

"What?" Beck exclaimed.

"Please, allow me to explain… follow me." Lance offered with a 'come here' hand gesture. Lance led Beck and Jade into the back room and opened up a laptop, presumably his.

"This morning, I received an instant message from an individual claiming to be the Maskmaker. He offered to sell me 'original work'." Lance informed them.

Beck scanned the chat log between Lance and the supposed Maskmaker, tapping the screen with his index finger the second he found what he had been looking for.

"Here it is. Whoever this is, he listed all three victims by name. Nobody but police should know that information." Beck confirmed.

"So this really could be our guy?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, could be. Boggs, does this person emailing you have any idea what you look like?" Beck questioned the trembling man.

"I… I don't think so. Please, you have to believe me. I never would've made the purchase." Lance assured them, raising his shaking hands.

"That's too bad, because you're about to." Beck told him before turning to the keyboard to type a reply.

"Wait, you're actually going to try to buy the mask?" Jade asked, skeptical.

"Exactly. When the Maskmaker comes to deliver the merchandise, we'll be there to take him down. You got a problem with that?" Beck asserted.

"No, I just think that you should negotiate the price." Jade suggested.

Beck raised an… almost amused eyebrow.

"This could be our only shot at catching this guy. You really think we should be bargaining with him?"

"Absolutely." Jade confirmed. "You're pretending to be Lance Boggs, remember? He may love masks, but he's also a shrewd businessman. He'd try for the best deal he can get." She pointed out.

"She's right, you know. I always lowball my opening bid." Lance chirped up.

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Good thinking." Beck said, smiling.

"I'll try to pretend you didn't sound surprised." Jade teased.

Beck cut his original offer by half and then, without hesitation, clicked the 'send' button.

"Now let's see what happens next." Beck said.

Almost instantly, a new message popped up, showing an address in Portola.

"Hey! It worked!" Jade exclaimed, impressed.

"Yeah, but it looks like he's only given us fifteen minutes to get there." Beck pointed out, turning to leave. "We better get moving."

* * *

**Have Beck and Jade found their guy? Find out next time!**

**Sylkia Whacamolia: Oh good god. Imagine _Slenderman _in this story? :P**

**ILoveScissorsAndCoffee: Thanks for the support! Hopefully my updates will be fairly frequent for this story so look forward to that!**

**Cassie (anonymous): I'm glad you like it! I hope you enjoy whatever twists come up in the Beck/Jade relationship in future chapters!**


	4. The Masks We Wear

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck steered his unmarked police vehicle into a vacant lot, fifteen minutes after his little deal with the supposed Maskmaker was made.

"A little exposed, aren't we?" Jade said.

"Guy probably wanted it that way. Wanted to scope us out before he made the exchange." Beck theorized. "By the way, I loved your little performance back there. You usually beef up on Aristotle before shaking down suspects?" He chuckled.

"Actually, I made that quote up on the spot." Jade admitted with a smile. "I haven't read Aristotle since high school."

"Who reads Aristotle in high school?" Beck joked.

"Smart, nerdy girls with crushes on their Honors English teachers. Now can we get back to the…" Jade trailed off as her sharp eyes caught something. "Hey, look! I bet that's our guy!" Jade pointed towards a sleek, black sedan with tinted windows that had just pulled into the lot. It flashed it's headlights twice.

"That's my cue." Beck stated, grabbing the briefcase and climbing out of the car. "I brought the money just like you said." He called towards the car, approaching with an air of caution.

The black sedan idled for a moment. Jade could only watch from Beck's car in suspicion.

_Why isn't he getting out?_

Without warning, the black sedan revved it's engine and sped forward, forcing Beck to leap to the side so as not to get flattened.

"Quick, get in!" Jade yelled, shifting over to the driver's seat.

Beck leaped back to his feet and slid into the passenger seat.

"Drive, Jade! DRIVE! He's getting away!" Beck urged her in panic.

Jade stepped on the gas and tore off after the sedan, as Beck flipped on the police siren. The two cars streaked down the tight streets of San Francisco.

Out of nowhere, a taxi swerved out of their way.

"Stay on him, stay on him!" Beck repeated.

"I am!" Jade yelled in panicked frustration.

The black sedan suddenly spun onto a narrow street, just barely swinging by a dump truck that was backing out. The truck didn't see Beck and Jade, and just kept backing out, forcing Jade to swerve around it.

"Good! Stay on him!" Beck persisted.

The black sedan careened out of the alley and onto a crowded street, swerving wildly between the mass of cars.

"The guy can drive, I'll give him that." Jade observed.

The sedan made a hard left, flying through a red light. A bus braked to avoid it and instead collided with an SUV.

"He's on a one-way street!" Beck pointed out. "I know a shortcut that'll cut him off! Take the _next _left!" Beck suggested.

"But we'll lose him!" Jade argued.

"Trust me!" Beck urged the agent.

"Alright! Alright! I trust you!" Jade spat out, driving past the streetlight and taking the next left onto a tight, downhill street.

"We got this... we got this…" Beck said to himself, his voice rising. "Just take a left… then a right… then take another left at _Dan Dan Dim Sum_!" Beck ordered.

Jade followed Beck's instructions, swerving left, then right, then swerving left outside of Dan Dan Dim Sum, a fancy Chinese restaurant…

And found herself right behind the black sedan.

"Perfect!" Beck exclaimed in triumph.

Jade slammed down on the gas and sped up right behind the sedan.

"I got you, you reckless sack of…" Jade cursed to herself, accelerating rapidly to cut him off.

"Here we go…" Beck said as Jade pulled out in front of the sedan, causing the driver to slam on his brakes and veer into a lamppost.

The windshield shattered in a spray of broken glass, and the street suddenly filled with the smell of burning rubber.

"Got him!" Beck yelled to no one in particular, victorious. "Good driving, Jade!" He praised the exhausted woman to his left.

"No problem!" Jade said, breathing heavily but still putting on a slight smile.

The pair hopped out of the car, drawing their guns, and cautiously approached the wrecked sedan. Jade could see the driver, his face bloodied, fumbling with the door.

"Don't move!" Jade ordered, raising her gun with one hand, and throwing open the door with the other.

The driver looked up at Jade for a second, and reached clumsily into his coat pocket. Jade noticed this instantly.

"Hey! Keep your hands where I can see them, or I will splatter your head across the backseat!" Jade threatened, gently squeezing the trigger. "NOW!"

"Whoa! Whoa! I'm just… getting my ID…" the man spoke up, his voice breaking half way through the sentence. His hand fell weakly out of his coat pocket, dropping his license into the road.

Beck bent down and picked the license up.

"Ah hell. I thought I recognized this guy." Beck cursed.

"You do?" Jade turned to Beck, surprised.

"Yeah. Marvin Clemente. Real scumbag. Used to be a cop." Beck informed her, disgustedly. "He worked Narcotics until he got booted from the force three years ago for taking bribes. Rumor has it he was supporting a gambling addiction."

"And I'm guessing he recognized you too, and that's why he fled the scene." Jade put the pieces together, her voice dropping.

Beck violently pulled Marvin out of the car, slapping a pair of handcuffs on him.

"Marvin Clemente, you're under arrest for the murders of Chanelle Pomeroy, Kirsty Barnett, and Sophie Ellison." Jade told him professionally.

"Murder… I didn't… murder nobody…" Marvin defended himself weakly, his voice almost completely gone.

"You swore an oath to serve and protect, you bastard! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Beck yelled, outraged. He grabbed Marvin by the collar and slammed him back against the frame of the car.

"Beck!" Jade spoke up. "Leave him alone! He's already injured! The last thing we need is a police brutality charge." She pointed out, pulling Beck back.

Beck took in a deep breath and stepped away, swallowing his pride.

"You… you're right. I'm sorry." Beck apologized. "It's just… there's nothing that pisses me off more than a crooked cop."

"I see. It strikes a nerve, then?" Jade asked.

"Let's just say it hits close to home." Beck told her. "Now come on. Let's get this piece of crap down to the station."

* * *

**A few hours later…**

"Good work this morning, Agent West." District Chief Blaire praised her through the phone. "I heard you successfully apprehended your suspect."

"Yes, sir." Jade confirmed.

"This will go over well at your review. Do you believe Clemente is really the Maskmaker?" Blaire asked.

"Well, it's too early to say. He's in the hospital right now with four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion. And they've got him too doped up on painkillers for interrogation." Jade informed her superior.

At that moment, Beck walked up coldly, gesturing for Jade to hang up.

"Uh, I have to go, sir. Something's come up. I'll call you back." Jade quickly said, hanging up the phone. "What's going on?" Jade asked.

"Marvin's not our guy." Beck sighed.

"What?" Jade asked disappointedly. "What are you talking about?"

"As soon as the word came in that he was a suspect, a secretary in Evidence Control called our unit and confessed to being his girlfriend. It turns out the two of them were running quite the little racket. She fed him information about the Maskmaker case…" Beck informed her.

"And he made replica masks." Jade finished, eliciting a nod of confirmation from Beck. "That's just perverse."

"There's a huge marker for murderbilia, souvenirs used in real crimes… Dahmer's drill, Gacy's clown mask, the Unabomber's typewriter… you'd be amazed what these things can go for online. We're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars." Beck educated her in an almost fascinated tone.

"So Clemente's not guilty, just a common hustler trying to pass off replica masks as the real thing." Jade sighed.

"My heart breaks for him." Beck commented dryly. "Listen. We know Boggs didn't keep books, but he did log the names of repeat buyers in his computer. It's a long shot, but we might find a connection there." He suggested, shrugging. "You should swing by the lab. Robbie wanted to get your DNA on file."

"What for?"

"Standard procedure. You're going to be all over these crime scenes, and they need a way to screen you out." Beck informed her.

"Oh. Right. I'll head down there. Good luck with the files."

Jade turned and headed down to the lab. Under the hum of the fluorescent lights, Cat was examining some sediment samples.

"Hey, is Robbie around? I need to have my DNA input into your system." Jade asked uncertainly.

"He's down at the morgue, actually, going over the autopsy report… but I can do that for you!" Cat told her, smiling.

Jade settled down next to Cat, who began to swab her mouth and processed the sample.

"Thanks, Cat. I hope it's not an imposition..." Jade started.

"Are you kidding? I don't mind at all! Do you know how rarely I get to talk to another girl down here?" Cat said, joyously.

"I can imagine." Jade chuckled. "For what it's worth, you're doing a great job. A couple more leads like that and we'll nail this guy."

"Thanks but… you know, I really can't take too much credit. It _was _Robbie's idea." Cat admitted, looking away sadly. "Can I… um… ask you a personal question?" She asked shyly.

"Sure, I suppose." Jade replied, curious.

"Have you ever been… interested in one of your colleagues? You know… romantically?" Cat asked softly.

"Oh, don't tell me…" Jade said, already knowing who this was about. "You're interested in Robbie."

"You… how did you know?" Cat asked, bewildered. "Am I really that obvious?"

"I'm a profiler. This is what I do."

"So… have you ever been involved with a colleague?" Cat repeated the question.

Jade hesitated for a moment, but quickly chirped back up and answered the question.

"Yes. Once. It didn't end well."

"Did you guys break up?" Cat asked.

"Something like that. He… he was shot." Jade admitted.

"Oh! I'm… I'm so sorry!" Cat said, shocked.

"It's okay. I've… I've come to terms with it. The truth is, we're in a high-stress line of work. Blending that with romance can be risky." Jade told Cat.

"I know, I know." Cat sighed. "It's just… Robbie and I spend a lot of time in the lab together, and… I know he can seem prickly, but he does have a really sweet side. Sometimes, when we talk, it seems like he's almost ready to open up to me… but I worry about taking that step, you know? What do you think I should do?" Cat asked hopefully.

"It's not really my place to say." Jade answered honestly.

"Oh. Right. Sure. Sorry I asked." Cat said, suddenly retreating as her tech equipment began to beep. "There! Done! Now you're in our system!"

"Thank you, Cat!" Jade said, smiling. She turned to walk away when Cat suddenly stood up.

"You're… you're going to stop this guy, right? Before he kills another girl?" Cat stated with a hint of doubt in her voice.

"I hope so, Cat. I hope so."

* * *

High school sophomore Brittney Patterson stood barefoot on the soft sands of East Beach. A huge bonfire raged in front of her, surrounded by other high schoolers.

"Brittney!" a voice called from behind her. Mona Emerson. "I didn't think you were going to show! This party is awesome!" Mona said.

"Well, I totally shouldn't have. If my parents knew I was out here, they would _flip_…" Brittney admitted, flicking her dyed red hair out of her face. "It's bad enough that I'm out at a party… but with the whole Maskmaker thing going on, they're completely on edge!"

Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Hey, Brittney!" a friendly voice said as she spun around. Greg Chapmen. "You talking about the Maskmaker?" the tall, skinny boy asked. "Don't worry about him. If that sick piece of crap comes by here, my boys and I will take care of him."

Greg mock-punched the air a few times, chuckling along with Brittney and Mona.

"Now grab a cup! Drinks are in the cooler." Greg told her, running off.

"Okay, admit it." Mona spoke up. "He is _ridiculously_ hot."

Brittney looked back at Greg, who had already gone off to mingle with other high schoolers. His well-defined face, his shoulder-length, dyed green hair, his sunglasses that never left his face…

"He's really hot." Brittney admitted with a laugh.

"So? You gonna… you know… make a move on him tonight? Maybe finally seal the deal?" Mona wondered.

"Not all of us just want to hook up with every cute guy, Mona. You know I'm not into that." Brittney reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what you say now…" Mona teased, interrupted by the beeping of Brittney's cell phone.

It was a text from her little sister.

_Mom wants to know where u r_

"Oh shoot… I have to take this. Be right back!" Brittney excused herself, walking away from the noise of the party towards some isolated bushed at the end of the beach.

Brittney dialled her home number, and her mother answered before the second ring.

"Brittney? Sweetie? Where are you?" Her mother asked.

"Uh, I'm working on a project at school." Brittney lied.

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Her mother responded, suspicious.

"It's for my computer class, Mom. I really need to finish." Brittney told her.

"Well… if it's for school, I suppose it's okay." The woman gave in.

"It's fine, Mom. I promise. I love you." Brittney said.

"Love you too, sweetie. Be safe." Her mother said, hanging up.

Brittney put her phone in her pocket.

_Phew!_

Brittney took a step back towards the party… but suddenly, two firm hands grabbed her and jerked her back into the bushes behind her. A rough, gloved hand clamped over her mouth, and another pressed down on her throat.

"Don't scream. Don't. Scream." Her attacker whispered in her ear.

Brittney screamed, the sound muffled completely by the hand over her mouth.

"Mmmmmmmmm!"

The hand around Brittney's throat tightened, causing her to choke for air.

"I said, don't scream!" The man ordered her.

Unable to scream anymore out of exhaustion and lack of air, Brittney just struggled to escape the man's grip with all her strength. She writhed and kicked, but the man just jerked her head up and slammed it into the sand at their feet.

"I don't want to hurt you. You're just… you're too beautiful." He told her, and, for a second, Brittney could feel the man's piercing gaze through his blank, white mask.

Brittney took advantage of the moment and thrust her knee up into the man's gut. He grunted in pain, twisting himself around and putting his weight on Brittney's chest.

Brittney jerked up, shoving the man aside. Staggering to her feet, Brittney lunged forward out of the bushes, thinking for one small moment that she might escape…

When the man grabbed her and pulled her back. Brittney's head slammed against the ground. She gasped for air as the man reached into his coat and then towards her throat.

Brittney felt the sting of the syringe. The intense pressure of the injection.

And then she felt no more.

The man kneeled down and ran his hand along her face. A cold, gloved hand against her bare skin. And Brittney couldn't even feel it.

"You look just like _her… _just like her…" He said, almost dreamily.

Brittney struggled to move, but her limbs were just dead weight.

"So beautiful… and so disgusting… a stain." He said, looking away for a moment. "You might be the one, you know. You might be the one."

Brittney stared up at his blank, cold mask in sheer terror.

"I just need to see your true face."

* * *

**Another one bites the dust.**

**(Okay, okay, I'm lame.)**

**ILoveScissorsAndCoffee: Uh oh, don't jeopradize your education because of me... :P**

**karlaserna: Thank you so much for the support! :) **

**Sylkia Whacamolia: Yeah, I can't imagine many people would be laughing if the Maskmaker turned out to be Slenderman and he just killed everyone off. That'd be the suckiest ending ever.**


	5. The Fourth Victim

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck, Jade and Tori stepped onto a cold, sandy beach. Police officers were huddled around the pale corpse of a teenage girl, slumped against a rock. A featureless plaster mask covered her face.

"She's just a kid." Beck observed grimly.

"It just breaks your heart. A girl like that with her whole life ahead of her." Tori sighed. "You bring this guy in, Detective Oliver." Tori said before storming away.

"Your captain seems unusually agitated." Jade pointed out.

"Yeah, well, it's getting personal." Beck replied. "Captain Vega has a daughter about the same age. You do your best to separate your home life from work, but… sometimes you can't create enough distance."

"Speaking from experience?" Jade assumed.

Beck toyed with his wedding band.

"Forget it. We've got work to do." Beck deflected, kneeling by the body.

"The victim's dry. Based on the way her blood's setting, I'm guessing she was placed here last night. Clothes are ripped. Defensive wounds on her hands and forearms. Definitely signs of a struggle. And I see a small injection mark at the base of her neck. Generally, this seems consistent with the previous murders…" Jade observed.

"No. There's something different here. The other victims weren't placed." Beck pointed out.

"You're right." Jade confirmed. "The other girls were dumped in the water and then drifted ashore… but this one is completely dry. She was killed on land."

"Exactly. The question is _why_."

"Because the Maskmaker didn't have time to fully ritualize this kill. For some reason, he acted on impulse." Jade said, her voice rising.

"He took a shortcut. And when people take shortcuts, they get sloppy." Beck said almost excitedly. "The Maskmaker might have just made his first mistake."

Officer William Rye walked up.

"Beck, ID on the vic just came back positive. Name is Brittney Patterson. Here's her home address. Captain wanted you and Agent West to talk to the family." He said, handing Beck a small piece of paper with Brittney's address scribbled on it.

"Thanks. We're on it." Beck thanked the officer.

* * *

**A little while later…**

Beck and Jade approached a large, two-story home. Several police cars were already parked outside. Captain Vega was waiting for the two of them.

"Got anything?" Beck asked Tori as he walked up.

"According to her family, Brittney Patterson was at her school last night working late on a project. She called around 8 o'clock to say that she'd be running late." Tori's face scrunched up. "She never came home." She finished.

"We'll talk to the family and see if we can get anything." Beck promised.

Jade lightly grabbed his arm.

"Beck, these people just suffered the most devastating news of their lives. They're likely consumed by grief, if not in shock." Jade reminded him.

"I've talked to grieving victims before, Jade. What's your point?"

"I'm just saying, we should be careful and really think about what we say. I don't think we'll have much time to chat."

Beck walked to the door where a tall, heavy-set man was leaning against the frame.

"Hello, sir. I'm Detective Beck Oliver with the SFPD, and this is Special Agent West of the FBI. We'd like to talk to you about your daughter." Beck greeted the man politely.

"Oh, uh, of course. Of course. I'm… I'm Brittney's father." The man's face dropped. "Please… just come in."

Beck and Jade stepped inside the house. From the next room, they could hear the sound of steady sobbing.

"I apologize for the state of the place. We've been… I mean, first we were worried because Brittney didn't come home and now… now…" his voice trailed off. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"It's okay, Mr. Patterson. We'll find who did this." Beck consoled the grieving father.

"I know you will, Detective, and I appreciate your effort. I just…" Mr. Patterson slumped down on the couch. "Is that going to bring my daughter back? Is that going to let me see her again and tell her I love her?"

"Unfortunately, that's something no one can do." Beck answered grimly. "But we can make sure that the person who did this to her dies behind prison walls."

Brittney's father hesitated, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then we'll help however we can."

"Mr. Patterson, if you don't mind, we'd like to ask you and your family a few questions." Jade told him.

"Of course. We'll do anything we can to help with the investigation. Anna, my other daughter, is upstairs, and Margaret, my wife, is in the next room. You can speak with them if you'd like." Mr. Patterson offered.

Beck thought about it.

_Jade was right. The family is really upset… I'll probably only have time to talk to one of them._

"We'd like to speak with your daughter." Beck answered.

"Well, if… if you think she'll be helpful…"

"I do." Beck confirmed.

Mr. Patterson led Beck and Jade up the steep, wooden staircase to a teenage girl's room. Brittney's 12-year-old sister, Anna, was sat on the bed hugging a pillow to her chest.

"Hi there, Anna. My name is Beck, and this is Jade. We're here to ask you some questions about your sister." Beck began gently.

"Didn't… didn't you talk to my parents? I don't know anything they don't." Anna asked.

"Well, we think you might." Beck insisted. "In my experience, kids don't always tell their parents what they're up to. But they _do _tell their brothers and sisters."

Anna paused and wiped a tear from her face.

"So?"

Beck took a seat on the bed next to Anna.

"Now, according to your mother, Brittney stayed late after school to work in a class assignment. Is that true?" Jade asked.

"Uh, it… I promised Brittney I wouldn't tell." Anna told them.

"Whatever it is, Anna, we need to know. You can trust us." Beck promised the young girl.

"Alright, I'll tell you. It was a stupid promise anyway. She… she wasn't working on her computer class project last night. That's just something she made up that she told Mom and Dad."

"Then where was she, Anna?" Jade pressed the matter.

"She was… at this party. On East Beach." Anna answered, and instantly, the cogs in Beck and Jade's heads started to turn.

"East Beach… that's where we found her!" Beck exclaimed.

"It's not a dump site, it's a crime scene!" Jade realised.

"Did… did I say something wrong?" Anna asked, with a worried look on her face.

"No, sweetie. You did real well." Jade told the grieving girl.

Beck and Jade rushed outside to where Captain Vega was talking with a few officers.

"Captain! You're going to want to hear this!" Beck called to Tori.

"According to Brittney's sister, the class project she'd been working on was a lie cooked up to cover what she was really doing…" Jade told her. Tori raised an eyebrow. "Hanging out at a beach bonfire party. The beach where the party happened? East Beach. Same place the body was found." Jade finished.

Tori smiled.

"So we know where she was taken. Good work, both of you. I'll dispatch a Crime Scene Unit back there right away!" Tori told them.

* * *

**A few hours later…**

Cat and Robbie stood over the charred remains of a bonfire on a deserted northern stretch of East Beach. Litter was strewn all around.

"I hate being out in the field." Cat complained.

"Hate it or not, we need every technician we can out here." Robbie replied, looking around. "Empty beer bottles, red plastic cups, and one stray bikini top… this does appear to be the site of a high school party." Robbie shook his head angrily. "A bunch of drunken, half-clothed idiots staggering around a giant fire… I'm surprised _any _of them made it home alive."

"You didn't go to a lot of parties in high school, did you?" Cat chuckled.

"No. Not at all. I cared far more about getting into a top-tier university than being Housewarming King." Robbie told her.

I'm pretty sure that's 'Homecoming King'." Cat corrected the nerdy man, still chuckling.

"Semantics." Robbie shrugged it off. "Now then, Detective Oliver and Agent West think the girl was taken from near this bonfire…"

Cat furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"That doesn't make sense." She spoke up. "The kids here were mostly sophomores in high school, right? And Jade said our killer was at least 20 years old… probably older? So how did he get close to them without being spotted? These kids might have been drunk, but I'm sure they would have noticed him." Cat argued.

"I'll admit, that's an intriguing notion, Cat… but we're interested in cold, hard facts. Nothing else. Leave the speculation to the detectives and stick to gathering evidence." Robbie dismissed the theory.

Cat let out a heavy sigh.

"Right. That means picking up all of these bottles and cups and swabbing them for DNA, huh?"

"Don't sound so glum!" Robbie said, cracking a smile. "If even one of them matches someone in our database, we'll have a lead!"

Cat nodded, heading to the far side of the circle and bagging bottles.

_It's so sad… one minute this girl was calling her parents to tell them she'd be home soon… and the next, she was being horrible murdered._

Cat's eyes lit up as she suddenly realised something.

_Wait a minute… if she called her parents and they didn't hear the party… then she had to have walked away from the bonfire!_

Cat looked around, examining the surrounding area for places Brittney could have potentially wondered off to. Finally, about 30 feet from the fire, by the base of the cliff at the beach's end, she noticed a thick cluster of bushes.

_There! That's where I'd sneak off to!_

Cat glanced back at the bonfire, where Robbie was distracted sifting through litter. Slowly, Cat wandered over to the bushes.

_Let's just see what we've got… some broken branches… an imprint in the sand… a scrap of a girl's shirt… oh my god, that's blood!_

Cat almost let out a triumphant squeal.

_This is the spot! This is where she was taken!_

"Robbie!" Cat called the technician, excitedly. "Come here now! I found something!"

Robbie ran over.

"What?! What's so… oh." Robbie's voice dropped as he noticed. "Oh my."

"She was kidnapped from here, Robbie. From _right _here." Cat said.

She kneeled down and carefully retrieved a fragment of a small glass cylinder.

"It's a vial! This must be from the drugs the Maskmaker used!" Cat theorized.

"This is… excellent work, Cat." Robbie praised her.

"You mean that?" Cat asked.

"I do." Robbie confirmed, flashing a warm smile.

Cat giggled, turning away from the man for a moment.

"Thanks."

"Now let's get this down to the lab at once! We need to know what was in that vial and where it came from!" Robbie ordered.

* * *

Beck drove along the waterfront, tightly gripping the wheel, with Jade sitting in the passenger seat.

"So where are we headed again?" Jade asked.

"I just got word from Cat down at the lab." Beck answered. "They've identified the compound used to drug the girls. It's succinylcholine, a powerful neuromuscular blocker."

"Used commonly in emergency surgery." Jade finished. "So we're definitely looking for a medical professional."

"Not just any doctor. Robbie was able to get a batch number off the vial. It matches some pharmaceuticals we confiscated a few years ago from a Dr. Christian Rose." Beck educated his partner.

"Why was it confiscated?"

"Dr. Rose was running an unlicensed plastic surgery practice, offering cut-rate cosmetic enhancements to women desperate enough to go for him. He flew under the radar until he botched a face-lift while blitzed on painkillers. The girl was completely disfigured." Beck said, eliciting a heavy sigh from Jade. "The prosecutor bungled the case, and the bastard got off with just 90 days in prison."

"My god… he fits the profile perfectly." Jade observed excitedly.

"I don't think he's the killer." Beck admitted.

Jade frowned in confusion.

"What could make you possibly say that? He's a perfect fit! He's medically trained, intelligent, and I'm guessing he's physically fit." Jade argued, Beck nodding in agreement. "Not to mention he's got the motivation. An alterer of women's faces suffers a traumatic incident that leaves him fundamentally unstable…"

"Yeah, sure, it adds up on paper. But it doesn't _feel _right." Beck interrupted. "Dr. Rose is no saint, but he strikes me as your average felon: greedy, irrational and self-destructive. I don't think he has the discipline or the focus to be the Maskmaker."

"Well, I hope you're wrong… because I think we're _this _close to cracking the case." Jade said with a hand gesture. "Are we driving to his house?" She asked.

"No, we'll let the uniforms handle that. We're heading to his other property: an abandoned warehouse down by the piers. It's where he performed his illegal surgeries." Beck answered.

Jade scoffed.

"Oh, come on! He owns a creepy warehouse by the water, and you _still _don't think he's our guy?" Jade asked in disbelief.

"Trust the gut, Jade." Beck responded as he swerved onto a backroad in a run-down waterfront neighbourhood.

"Well, it I were a serial killer who needed a hideout, it would definitely be around here." Jade said, examining the local area through her window.

"You know, this neighbourhood didn't used to be so bad. When I was a little kid, my dad used to take me down here to fly kites on the beach and grab some pizza afterwards." Beck countered. His shoulders suddenly dropped. "Of course, old Sal's pizza place got shut down years ago. It's probably a crackhouse at this point." The man sighed.

"Are you and your father close?" Jade probed.

"We were." Beck replied coldly.

"But not anymore?"

"Well, given that he's serving 35 to life for corruption, racketeering and extortion, no, we're not exactly flying kites these days." Beck snapped.

Jade let out a small gasp.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't realize." She apologized.

"Don't worry about it." Beck waved it off, slamming down on the brakes. "We're here."

* * *

**So this chapter and the next chapter were initially one extra long chapter, but to keep the length of each chapter roughly consistent, I cut it in half, so the second part is coming tomorrow. Enjoy! And keep sending in those reviews!**

**tsttoain: Yep. Like you said, a slow story is much, much better than a rushed story. Thanks for the review! :)**

**Clarity23: Dun dun DUUUUNNNNN! I guess we'll have to wait and see, won't we? ;)**

**xXlostinparadiseXx (Nikki): OMG HOW DARE YOU I'M GONNA MAKE A BLOG AND LEAVE THE SITE NOW WAAAAH! :P All jokes aside though, I think the mindset with a lot of FanFiction writers is 'Well everyone knows what the characters look like, why do I need to waste time describing them?'. I'll try to add in a few more descriptions for the Victorious characters in future though. And thanks for the review! P.S. Sorry for getting rid of the dots in your penname, FanFiction wouldn't let me type it otherwise.**

**Cassie (anonymous): Hey, it's a murder mystery, right? Confusing you is my main objective! Mwahaha! ;)**


	6. Bad Medicine

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck had pulled up outside the old, run-down warehouse. Jade's attention was instantly drawn to the muscle car that was parked outside.

"Beck, look at this." She grabbed the Detective's attention.

Jade ran her hand over the side of the muscle car, pointing out several prominent holes.

"Bullet holes… and blood." Jade noted grimly.

Suddenly, a scream came from inside the warehouse, springing Beck and Jade into action.

"Quick! Move!" Beck urged, drawing his gun and rushing to the door. Jade followed suit.

Behind the door, Beck could hear mumbling… and the clanking of metal.

_What the hell is going on here?_

Beck pressed a finger to his lips to signal 'Be quiet' to Jade. Jade nodded as Beck crouched down and peeked through a small crack in the door. Jade leaned over to whisper to him.

"What do you see?"

"I've got multiple people." Beck whispered back. "Someone's lying on his back in the middle of the room, and someone's standing over him. There's movement in the back too… maybe one, two more people…"

Suddenly there came another howl of pain.

"We're going in!" Beck shouted, winding up and kicking the door in.

The door flew off its hinges as Beck and Jade rushed in, guns drawn.

"S.F.P.D! Freeze!" Beck ordered, examining the room.

He was in a makeshift operating room. The room was full of medical supplies. A shirtless man was lying on an operating table in the center of the room. Dr. Rose stood over him prying at a bullet wound in his shoulder.

And then Beck noticed the two bulky men stood at the back of the room, pointing guns straight at him.

"What the hell is this?" Dr. Rose yelled. "What is going on?"

"Put down your guns, NOW!" One of the bodyguards ordered.

"Do it!" The other bodyguard said.

Beck and Jade kept their guns firmly pointed at the two bodyguards, neither of them ready to surrender.

"Let's just take it easy. No one has to get hurt here…" Beck attempted to calm everyone.

"I have a feeling, Detective, that it won't be that simple." Rose sighed as the man on the operating table beneath him moaned and strained.

Jade glanced at the man on the operating table, instantly recognizing him.

Miguel Flores.

"You pigs… know what my family… will do to you?" Miguel warned them in his thick, Mexican accent.

"Beck… that's Miguel Flores. Ranking officer and scion of the Flores drug cartel." Jade informed her partner.

"Ah hell." Beck cursed. "So you're a mob doctor now, Rose? Stitching up cartel footsoldiers?"

"Since that sham malpractice case, I had to make a living somehow." Rose defended himself calmly. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to operate here."

Beck glanced at Jade uneasily. The bodyguards adjusted their grips on their guns, still pointed firmly at Beck and Jade, whose guns were pointed firmly back. Dr. Rose very slowly turned to resume examining Miguel's wound.

"Back away, pigs. If you value your lives." Miguel threatened.

"We just want to talk." Beck said.

"I ain't talking… with you." Miguel denied, moaning in pain.

"Not you, Miguel. We want to talk to Dr. Rose." Beck corrected the Mexican.

"Me?" Rose scoffed. "You want to talk to me?"

"Bull. They're playing you, doc." Miguel told the doctor. "The moment you get outta the line of fire… they're gonna haul me off. Keep working." He ordered.

Dr. Rose took one last look at Miguel's bodyguards, then resumed examining the wound.

"Miguel, just tell your men to put down their guns." Jade attempted to reason with the man. "We'll get you to a hospital…"

"I ain't going to… no hospital!" Miguel interrupted before turning and barking something to his bodyguards in Spanish. One of them immediately stepped forward.

"Hey! HEY! Back off!" Jade yelled furiously.

"Last chance. Put the gun down." Miguel warned them.

Beck lowered his gun…

…and pointed it at Miguel.

"Tell your men to back off, Miguel, or I _will _put a hole in you." Beck warned him.

"Oh ho, big talk, little man. You do that… and you and your little girlfriend are next." Miguel chuckled.

"Yeah, probably. But you'll be too dead to appreciate it." Beck countered coldly.

Miguel paused for a moment, deep in thought. Beck picked up on this instantly, and saw a window of opportunity open up in front of his eyes.

"Just let us take the doctor. That's all we want." Beck promised.

"It's not going to happen." Dr. Rose spoke up again. "I'm not going back to prison." He insisted.

"Who said anything about prison? We just want to talk." Beck said.

Rose continued to dig deeper into Miguel's shoulder for the bullet, eliciting another howl of pain and agony from Miguel.

"Oh really?" Rose tested. "And what precisely do you want to 'talk about' anyway? What trumped up charge justifies bringing an FBI agent along?" The doctor asked.

"It's about the Maskmaker case." Beck informed the man immediately.

"The… the Maskmaker case?" Rose questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"The dude that's been killing all those girls?" Miguel asked, surprised. "Is that you, doc?"

"You… you think I'M the Maskmaker? That's what this is about?" Rose laughed. "Oh, that's just ridiculous. The idiocy of this city's police department knows no bounds."

"Then you'll come with us to answer some questions?" Beck persisted.

Dr. Rose, without warning, violently jerked the tweezers out of Miguel's shoulder and dropped a bullet into a little tin tray as Miguel groaned in agony.

"Ugggghh! Goddamn!" He cursed.

"There. That's the bullet. Anyone with even a little medical training can stitch you up from here." Rose confirmed.

"You leaving…?" Miguel asked.

"I'm going to go with them to get this absurd little mess cleared up." Rose told Miguel. Beck and Jade both secretly let out sighs of relief.

"We'll take the doctor, and leave. Then you and your men can go." Beck promised.

Dr. Rose stood up and set down his tools.

"I'm just going to go over to them very slowly. Understand?" Rose informed Miguel and his bodyguards in a very dragged out tone of voice.

Jade's eyebrows furrowed. She knew something wasn't right about this.

"I got it, doc!" Miguel nodded. "I understand…"

Jade tightened her grip on her gun.

"Understand _this_!" Miguel yelled, whipping his hand out from behind his back, pointing a chromed, semi-automatic pistol straight at Beck.

Beck immediately pulled the trigger. The sound of gunfire blasted through the room as a bright red circle appeared in the center of Miguel's forehead. His head snapped back, his blood splattering over a shocked Dr. Rose.

"No!" The doctor cried out.

Miguel's body flopped off the table, knocking Rose down to the ground. Beck hurled himself behind a wooden cabinet.

"Jesus! He killed Miguel!" One of the bodyguards yelled in fury.

"Shoot him! NOW!" The other bodyguard screamed.

The room erupted into chaos as both bodyguards opened fire, their gun shots whizzing audibly past Beck. Jade popped up and fired off one shot, which missed. Thinking fast, Jade threw herself forward, flipping over the operating table to use as cover.

"Jade! Are you okay?" Beck yelled to the agent.

"I'm fine!" Jade assured him.

Beck peeked around the corner of the wooden cabinet he was using for cover and saw the two bodyguards crouching behind cover. Turning his head, he quickly noticed Dr. Rose scampering away, retreating into the darkness.

"Get back here, Rose!" Beck yelled, popping out of cover for a second, but instantly popping back in as the bodyguards opened fire again. The side of the cabinet burst apart, spraying Beck with wooden splinters, forcing him to pull back.

"You're a dead man!" One of the bodyguards taunted as more bullets exploded against the cabinet. One of them blew a chunk off the top as Beck scrambled to stay behind cover.

"I'm pinned down here!" Beck yelled to Jade.

"What do you want me to do about it?!" Jade yelled back angrily.

Suddenly, there was the sound of an engine revving outside.

"Dammit, it's Rose! He's getting away!" Jade shouted in frustration.

For a moment, Beck considered jumping up and running out after Rose, but the Detective assessed the situation and quickly came to his senses.

"We can't get him without risking ourselves! Stay down!" Beck ordered.

Outside, Rose's car revved up and zoomed away.

"Damn…" Beck cursed to himself.

"Beck, listen!" Jade urged him.

Beck went quiet. An eerie silence filled the room as neither of the bodyguards were shooting.

"You two ready to surrender?" Beck asked uncertainly.

There was no response. Beck and Jade could hear soft, padding footsteps… and then they heard it. The sound of one of the bodyguards fumbling with what could only be a glass bottle.

"You smell… rubbing alcohol?" Jade asked, fear snaking it's way up her spine.

There was the sound of cloth crumpling… and a lighter flicking.

"They're making a Molotov cocktail!" Beck shouted in panic.

"We have to shoot! Now!" Jade urged.

Beck stopped for a split second, wondering just how the hell he was going to make this shot count. Jade could only wait in fear and suspense as the cogs in Beck's head turned and turned, making a decision. Finally, Beck aimed his gun and fired a single bullet under the wooden cabinet he was using for cover.

The first bodyguard's shoe burst open. He screamed and fell down, dropping his Molotov cocktail on himself. Jade felt the heat from the small explosion of flame from halfway across the room. The bodyguard writhed around on the floor, completely engulfed in flame.

"That leaves just the one…" Beck noted, popping over the cabinet but seeing no sign of the second bodyguard.

Slowly and cautiously, Beck rose to his feet and walked towards the other side of the room.

"Come out with your hands up! No one has to get hurt!" Beck called out, his voice echoing around the room.

Silence.

Then, a voice.

"Beck."

Beck turned around. The second bodyguard was stood behind Jade, his gun pressed firmly under her chin. His head peered over Jade's shoulder. Beck lined up the shot.

"Put down your gun! Put it down, NOW!" The bodyguard ordered.

Beck had no choice in the matter.

"Okay. Okay. Just… just let her go." Beck surrendered, slowly lowering his gun to the ground and kicking it to the side.

"Good boy. Good… _boy_!" The bodyguard chuckled, suddenly lifting his gun to fire at Beck.

Instantly, Jade knew to take advantage of the moment. The FBI agent grabbed the bodyguard's arm and jerked him down, elbowing his brutally in the side of the head.

"Aggggh!" The bodyguard yelled in pain, dropping to his knees, wobbling, and finally falling over, unconscious.

Beck let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Jade! You good?" Beck checked.

"I'm good." Jade confirmed.

The two of them stood together. For one moment, the room is completely, and utterly… silent.

"We just killed Miguel Flores." Beck said, the gravity of the situation hitting him full force.

"Yes. Yes we did." Jade responded, letting out a deep breath.

* * *

Beck and Jade stood outside the warehouse in the evening sunset. Police cars were parked all around them, their lights flashing. Officers swarmed over to the warehouse. Beck walked over to the side of the lot, where Jade was finishing up a phone call.

"Yes, sir. Yes. I'll have the full write-up to you by tomorrow morning. Goodbye, sir." Jade said softly.

"Doing okay?" Beck asked.

"Yeah. A little shaken, but yeah." Jade admitted, letting out a small chuckle. "I just can't believe we made it out of that without getting a scratch on us!"

"We got lucky. That's all." Beck told her. "You ever been in a shootout before?"

Jade briefly glanced out, over the water.

"Once. It didn't go well."

A cold breeze washed over Beck.

"You in trouble with your chief?" He asked, concerned.

"Are you kidding?" Jade turned back to meet Beck's eyes. "Miguel Flores was a drug-runner and a rapist who we suspect of at least sixteen gangland murders. I might just get a medal out of this." Jade replied, cracking a smile.

"Catch Dr. Rose, and you might get two." Beck said.

Jade let out a deep breath and looked back out over the calm, waving ocean as the cold air tickled against the back her neck.

"Beck… I don't think he's the Maskmaker." Jade admitted. "The way he acted in there... the way he reacted to us? He didn't suggest someone with a deep psychosis." She pointed out.

"Yeah. I had a feeling you'd say that." Beck sighed.

* * *

**Half an hour later…**

Back at the precinct, Beck and Jade were reporting to Captain Vega.

"And I'm telling you, I don't want to hear it, Detective." The Captain insisted. "Miguel Flores is dead, Dr. Rose escaped, and now you're telling me he might not be the Maskmaker?" She asked, angrily.

"It's a theory." Beck defended himself.

Tori let out a stressed sigh.

"I appreciate that you're working on a theory, Detective."

"Thanks." Beck smiled.

"But what facts do you have to support it? All the evidence you've collected points to Dr. Rose!" Tori pointed out, skeptical. "He even matches the profile Agent West developed."

"Yes, but…" Jade spoke up before being halted by Tori raising a hand.

"I don't want to hear it, Agent West." The Captain interrupted. "Unless and until you two can prove otherwise, Dr. Rose remains out prime suspect."

"Listen to me…" Beck started.

"No. You listen to me." Tori ordered, her tone of voice suddenly becoming a lot angrier. "Thanks to you, I've got one cartel officer in the morgue, one in the burn ward, and a third with a broken jaw…"

"It was a righteous shoot!" Beck interrupted, defending his actions.

"I know, and that's the only reason you're not on suspension pending review." Tori told the Detective. "I pulled every string I and cashed every favour I had with the Commissioner to keep you both on, at least until Dr. Rose is brought to justice."

"Thank you." Beck sighed.

"Don't let it get to your head. You're my best detective, and our prime suspect is still at large." Tori warned him. "Find him." She ordered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a press conference to prepare for."

Beck and Jade nodded, stepping out of the Captain's office and slamming the door shut behind them.

"Well, that could've gone better." Jade frowned.

"There's a television in the break room. We can watch the press conference from there." Beck suggested.

Beck and Jade made their way across the station into the break room. The two stood in front of the television, watching the news broadcast.

"She shouldn't be doing this. Not yet." Beck complained.

"We did everything we could." Jade reasoned.

"I know, but still…" Beck trailed off, sighing.

The door swung open, and André strolled in.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Wyatt Earp himself. Heard you had yourself one heck of a shootout." André greeted his friend.

"It was something alright." Beck chuckled.

"Popping Miguel Flores, IDing the Maskmaker… bet the Captain's glad she put you back on the force!" André smiled.

Beck hesitated to respond to his friend's assumption. André knew something was up immediately.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked.

"We don't think Rose is the killer." Beck admitted.

"What? You're kidding me. The guy's guilty as sin!" André said in disbelief.

"I don't know, André. It's not as simple as that…" Beck informed him.

"You're gonna have to fill me in some time." André said.

"Quiet, you two." Jade spoke up, her gaze fixed on the television. "The press conference is about to begin."

The three watched the small television screen as Captain Vega addressed a crowd of reporters.

"Thank you all for coming. As many of you know, there's been a break in the Maskmaker investigation. We now have a primary suspect: this man, Dr. Christian Rose. For the moment, Dr. Rose remains at large, but we hope the citizens of San Francisco will cooperate in our attempts to bring him to justice." Tori told the news-hungry journalists.

"Every cop in this city is going to be stuck looking for Dr. Rose…" Beck sighed.

"That's not good." Jade observed.

"No. No it's not."

* * *

**So, do you guys think Beck and Jade are right? Or is Dr. Rose really the Maskmaker? Find out next time.**

**XxDisneyTurtlexX (Turtle): Yaaay you read it! I knew I could convince you to join the dark side. ;)**

**xxBadeRomancexx: Aaaah, good ole' Cat and Robbie... ya' gotta love 'em. :P**

**Sylkia Whacamolia: NO SLENDY NOOONONONO!**

**karlaserna: It's pretty ridiculous, but I just reached a point where I looked at the word count and realised I had passed 4000 words (most chapters are 2500-3000 words) and just thought '_Oh...' _And it's a fine line between portraying Jade as a highly intelligent, professional profiler and also keeping her in character, but I believe I'm getting there! :)**


	7. Buried Secrets

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**The next morning…**

Special Agent Jade West headed into the police station, looking around at all the Detectives scrambling about to answer ringing phones. Noticing Beck casually leaning against the wall by the water cooler, Jade approached him.

"Anonymous tips about Dr. Rose?" Jade assumed.

"Yep. You'd be amazed how many creepy bearded men there are in this city." Beck chuckled.

"So where do we come in? Interviewing his known associates? Examining forensic data from the warehouse?" Jade asked.

"Actually…" Beck interrupted, jerking his head towards his office, signalling for Jade to follow him inside the room. The two entered and Beck closed the door behind Jade, who was surprised at the piles and piles of papers and photographs covering his desk.

"What's all this?" Jade asked.

"It's all the case information on the Maskmaker. We're going to review the evidence and figure out who the _real _killer is." Beck told her.

"But our orders were to concentrate on finding Dr. Rose." Jade reminded the Detective.

"I know they were. But I don't think he's the Maskmaker, and you don't think he's the Maskmaker. And every minute we spend chasing Rose is a minute the killer is still out there." Beck argued.

"You're suggesting we go against our orders?"

After a slight, hesitant pause, Beck nodded.

"Yeah. I am." He confirmed.

"Let's do it." Jade instantly replied. "I'm not going to let another girl die. And if that means violating orders, so be it."

"That's the spirit!" Beck said happily, settling down at his desk and sliding Jade some papers. "Where do you want to start?"

Jade cleared her throat.

"Well, psychological triggers play an important part in who killers target. All of these victims _must _have something in common." She told Beck.

"I'm not seeing it. Two of them were prostitutes, one was a college girl, and the other was a high school student."

"Okay, so maybe the connection isn't in their occupations. Maybe it's physical." Jade suggested.

"They were all Caucasian… all petite…" Beck began to list.

"There's got to be more than that." Jade reasoned.

Beck scanned the four autopsy reports.

"So our first victim was 5'11'', with strawberry hair and green eyes. Our second victim was 5'8'', with auburn hair and brown eyes. Our third victim as 5'2'' with burgundy hair and hazel eyes. And our last victim was 5'6'', with chestnut hair and blue eyes." Beck read out. "Got that?" Beck asked.

"Of course." Jade confirmed, her brain hard at work processing the information.

"Good. Did you see any similarities?" Beck questioned hopefully.

Jade smiled proudly. She had figured it out.

"Reddish hair." She smiled. Beck's eyebrows almost shot up off his forehead.

"Son of a… now that you mention it, yeah! Strawberry, auburn, burgundy, chestnut… those are all shades of _red_!" Beck observed excitedly.

"It's not a lot to go on, but I do think we've identified the killer's type… redheads." Jade said, bringing the very excited Detective back to Earth.

"I guess the city's blondes are going to sleep easier tonight." Beck commented.

"So his trigger is physical. He stalks clubs and alleys, looking for women with vibrant red hair…" Jade noted to herself.

"Except for the last victim, Brittney. She was killed on impulse." Beck reminded her.

"Exactly. We know the murder wasn't planned because the Maskmaker didn't have time to complete his full ritual."

"See, that's what I don't get. How the hell could he run into her 'by chance'?" Beck questioned no one in particular. "Those kids were partying on an isolated stretch of beach, and none of them noticed any strangers."

"Which means… our killer must've seen the party." Jade theorized.

"Seen the party? Are you sure?" Beck asked, uncertain of the woman's solution. "The party was held on an isolated stretch of beach." He reminded her.

"Yeah, maybe so, but it's the only way. If the Maskmaker had known about the party, he would've been prepared to kill Brittney. And if my profile is accurate, the Maskmaker is too old to attend a high school party himself." Jade defended her theory.

"Okay, so that only leaves seeing it…but from where?" Beck asked.

Jade smiled almost triumphantly, immediately pointing a finger to the cliffs above the beach on the map sprawled out over Beck's desk.

"What about here? These cliffs would give an observer a clear view of the party."

"You're absolutely right. I know that place..." Beck said, deep in thought. He clicked his fingers as the memory came back to him. "It's Pacific Heights, one of the city's nicer neighborhoods!"

"Let's roll." Jade said, determined.

* * *

**Half an hour later…**

Beck and Jade strolled through the upscale neighborhood of Pacific Heights.

"You know, I've been in some real seedy dives in my day, I mean, crap-on-the-walls seedy… and yet somehow, I feel most ill at ease here." Beck admitted. "Now why do you think that is?"

"A class bias born of blue-collar frustration?" Jade analysed.

"…Right. Anyway. So we figure out killer has to live in one of the houses along the East Beach. That narrows it down to, what, those fifteen houses over there?" Beck asked, gesturing between said houses.

"Well unfortunately, we don't have a warrant, and we're not even supposed to be investigating this. So where _do _we begin?" Jade pointed out.

Beck sighed, looking around. He noticed a realtor a block away adjusting a large 'For Sale' sign. His brain quickly hatched an idea.

"Follow my lead!" He said to Jade, who nodded, stiffening up as Beck grabbed her hand without warning and pulled her over to the realtor.

"Excuse me? Miss? Might I have a moment of your time?" Beck asked politely. "I'm Charles Waldencrest, and this is my wife, Claudette." He introduced, holding up Jade's hand. "We're looking to buy a house in the neighborhood!"

"Oh, how wonderful! Are you two new to the area?" The tall, blonde woman asked.

"Yes, we are! The energy conglomerate I work for just opened a new plant here." Beck lied. "Claudette and I… we're looking for a nice, safe neighborhood to start a family."

"Oh, that's just delightful! I love seeing happy new couples!" The realtor smiled. "How did you two meet, if you don't mind me asking?"

"At a party." Jade finally spoke up, going along with the deception after finally lifting her subtle gaze at her hand intertwined with Beck's. "It was at a cocktail fundraiser for one of the nonprofits I support… Charles was just _so _charming." She smiled, as Beck wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, you flatter me, sweetie. I just look sharp in a tux!" Beck joked.

"Tee hee!" The realtor giggled. "Aren't you two a delight? Would you like me to give you a tour of any houses?" She offered.

"Actually, we were hoping you could help us answer some questions about the neighborhood." Beck told her. "Partcularly with regards to safety."

"Oh, I can assure you, Pacific Heights has one of the lowest crime rates in all of San Francisco." The realtor confirmed.

"I'm not worried about muggers or car jackers. Believe me, I'm insured. I'm more interested in the residents… particularly on that bluff over there." Beck continued, removing his arm from around Jade's shoulders and pointing towards the area in question. "Is there anyone unusual we should be worried about?"

The realtor shifted uneasily.

"Um… that's… well… may I ask why you're so concerned about this?" She frowned.

"We're concerned for our baby." Jade pitched in, gesturing with a nod towards her stomach. The realtor almost hopped in delight.

"Oh! How delightful! When are you expecting?" She asked joyously.

Beck leaned over and lovingly placed his hand on Jade's stomach.

"Seven months until we have our very own bundle of joy!" Beck answered.

"As you can imagine, we're very concerned about living in a safe neighborhood. If there's anyone here we should keep our eye on, we'd love to know." Jade asked in a more serious tone.

"You know what we're asking about, Miss. Sex offenders. Deviants." Beck listed.

"What? I… no!" The realtor gasped. "We don't have anyone like that in our neighborhood! The worst we have is that eccentric doctor in 240."

…_eccentric doctor in 240._

…_eccentric doctor…_

…_doctor…_

"Eccentric doctor, you say?" Jade asked, bringing herself back to reality.

"Well sure, but all he does is keep odd hours, always coming and going in that funny lab coat of his…" The realtor let out an uneasy cough. "Listen, I'm not very comfortable discussing our residents like this. Maybe we could continue this conversation in my office?" She suggested.

"Some other time, ma'am. Come on, honey." Beck said, wrapping his arm around Jade's waist and walking away from the realtor. Once they were out of hearing distance, Beck excitedly turned to Jade, removing his arm from her waist and letting go of her other hand. "That was amazing! That touch about the baby? Brilliant!" Beck laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." Jade shrugged it off. "Next time, _I'm _the powerful businesswoman, and you're the doting, stay-at-home husband!" She insisted with a smile.

The two walked over to the large, two-story house right on the corner of the street. Several trashcans were haphazardly placed by the curb.

"Lights are off and no car in the driveway. Guessing no one's home." Beck observed.

"So we've got a house with a suspicious tenant. It's not like we have probably cause to go in. You might like to bend the rules, but I'm _not _participating in an illegal search." Jade insisted, crossing her arms.

"Actually, I was just suggesting we take a look around." Beck said. "You know, legally."

Jade sighed worriedly.

"Okay, fine. You want my advice?" Jade asked, continuing before Beck could even open his mouth to answer. "Check the trashcans."

Beck nodded and walked over to the trashcans, opening the lids.

"Some trash… old newspapers… a dress shirt…" Beck listed, sifting through all the garbage. "And… a can of plaster from 'Italia Imports and Exports'!" Beck called out in triumph. "Jade! Get over here!"

Jade ran over and looked over Beck's shoulder, eyeing the can with growing suspicion.

"We just got a probable cause." Beck said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Beck ran over to the front door and kicked it open, he and Jade drawing their guns.

"S.F.P.D!" Beck yelled, his voice bouncing around the completely empty, unfurnished room.

A tense, palpable silence hung over the room. Beck tightened his grip on his gun before walking through the house, with Jade in pursuit, carefully examining it.

"Dust all over the window… a spiderweb in the corner… there's no sign that anyone has even been in this room for months." Jade examined nervously, suddenly jumping at the sound of a window shade fluttering from the other end of the room.

Cautiously, Jade walked over, feeling the cool, ocean breeze tickling her face, and looked out.

Over East Beach.

_A perfect view of the beach party._

Jade could feel her nerves slowly slipping away as she rearranged her black hair that the breeze had blown out of place and walked across the room and into the bathroom, looking around in utter confusion at the lack of furniture.

_Nothing. No toilet paper, no mildew in the shower… nothing in the medicine cabinet…_

Beck walked over and stood in the doorway behind her.

"Nothing upstairs." Beck noted, making Jade jump subtly again. "Totally clear."

Annoyed and angry at her own jumpiness, Jade glanced up at Beck in the mirror...

And jumped again at the dark shape moving behind him. Terror struck her heart like a bolt of lightning as she fought her temptation to scream.

_Just stay calm… don't escalate the situation…_

"I mean, this is just ridiculous!" Beck scoffed. "Who buys a 3 million dollar house and doesn't even move in?"

Jade didn't even attempt to form a reply, instead looking up in the mirror nervously again.

The shape stepped forward into the light, and the full gravity of the situation hit Jade with the force of a speeding truck when she saw the white, featureless mask and the completely black outfit.

The masked man didn't make a sound, completely unalerted. Jade realised what was going on.

_He doesn't know I've seen him!_

Tightening the grip on her gun so much that she began to shake, Jade spoke up.

"Beck…" Jade said, spinning around and raising her gun. "DUCK!" She yelled in fury.

Beck ducked just in time as Jade fired a single bullet, bursting apart the wall just to the side of the intruder's hand. Wood splinters showered Beck's face, sending him stumbling to the ground.

"Jesus!" Beck cursed in shock.

Behind him, the masked man reeled back and ran quickly through the house. Beck lay on the ground as the man vanished around the corner.

Jade could feel the determination in every bone of her body not to let the guy escape. Leaving Beck to look after himself, Jade sprinted after the intruder.

"Go after him! Go!" Beck yelled after her, struggling to his feet.

Jade ran around the corner, but found no sign of the masked man. Her gun pointed straight ahead, Jade wandered deeper into the house.

And in a room in the back, she heard a door slam. Jade hurried into the bedroom at the very back of the house… and, once again, found it empty.

"Dammit!" Jade cursed in frustration. "Where the hell is…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed the trapdoor in the middle of the floor. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Jade scoffed, pulling open the trapdoor and stepping down cautiously.

Into total darkness.

Thinking fast, Jade reached for and flipped on her flashlight, finding herself in a dark basement. The walls were completely covered in pictures, scrawlings and hanging masks.

"Oh my god…" Jade whispered to herself in shock and fascination.

Then the sound of a door slamming from the other side of the basement hit Jade's ears. Jade rushed through the room and came to a locked door.

"Open up!" Jade ordered. No answer. "Step away from the door!" She warned whoever was inside, raising her gun and firing a shot through the lock. It splintered off and the door flew open.

Jade rushed inside the room and instantly noticed the mask man lying face-down on the floor.

"Freeze! Don't move a…" Jade began to shout, trailing off when she realized what must have happened. "…Muscle?"

Jade observed how still the man was lying… and that's when she noticed the syringe jutting out of the side of his arm.

"Oh no… you did _not _just kill yourself!" Jade attempted to convince herself in fury, flipping the man over.

He was still breathing, barely. Her heart in her throat, Jade reached down and slowly pulled off his mask…

"Son of a…" Jade cursed, instantly recognizing the face behind the mask.

Dr. Christian Rose.

* * *

**A little while later…**

Jade stood on the street, the wind blowing her hair out of place again, watching as the house was overrun by other police officers. Beck walked over to her, with a small bandage on the side of his head.

"You okay?" Jade checked, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A lot better than I would've been if that psycho had stabbed me." Beck reasoned.

Jade let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad you're alright." Jade told him, subtly avoiding his gaze.

The two of them both glanced up as Dr. Rose's comatose body was wheeled out and placed in an ambulance.

"So what do you figure?" Beck asked. "The doc tried to kill me, and you chased him down into the basement where he tried to kill himself?"

"That's how it looks. The coward tried to take the easy way out." Jade answered.

"Detective Oliver! Special Agent West!" Someone called from over to the right.

Beck and Jade looked over and saw Captain Vega headed their way, cleaning the right lens on her small, silver glasses.

"Impressive work." Tori smiled, putting her glasses back on. "With every cop on the force searching for Dr. Rose, you two managed to find him. Care to tell me how?"

"Uh, well…" Jade replied, her mind scrambling to think of an excuse for their unwarranted search of the area.

"Solid profiling, Captain. Nothing more." Beck told the Captain, not all that far from the truth.

"Well, Agent West, we're grateful for your help. Yesterday you expressed doubt that Dr. Rose was in fact the Maskmaker." Tori turned to the pale woman in front of her. "Given the circumstances of Dr. Roses apprehension, it would seem there's no longer any question as to his guilt. Would you agree?"

Jade cautiously hesitated.

"…It certainly _seems _that way." Jade frowned.

"You don't seem convinced." Tori observed in disbelief.

"No, it's not that. I just… I want to do my job." Jade said.

"So simply catching the murderer isn't enough for you?" Tori asked.

"With all due respect, Captain, my profile matches Dr. Rose, but there's still some unresolved questions of motive and psychology." Jade argued. "Perhaps if I could examine the Maskmaker's lair?" Jade asked hopefully.

"You might be able to reconcile any possible discrepancies before the case hits trial." Tori finished Jade's thought. "Good thinking, Agent West." The Captain smiled.

"Thanks." Jade replied softly.

"Come back tomorrow morning after the CSU has cleared the scene. In the meantime, try and get some rest." Tori suggested before turning around and walking away.

Jade exhaled nervously.

"Hey, you still a little on edge?" Beck asked, concerned.

"You noticed?" Jade worried.

"Yeah, but don't worry. It didn't take a profiler to put that one together." Beck smiled.

"Heh." Jade let out a small chuckle.

"Once the adrenaline starts pumping, I'm always wired for at least a few hours." Beck told the agent.

"Me too. Back in Quantico, I'd always go out for dinner with my partner after a rough day." Jade agreed.

"Yeah?"

"In my experience, just getting out in the world helps you remind yourself that not everyone is out to kill you." Jade reasoned.

Beck smiled, coming up with an idea.

"Hey, I know a great place we could grab a bite and unwind. I mean, if you'd be interested, that is." Beck offered.

"Well… I _am _kind of hungry." Jade admitted. "Sure, I guess. Count me in."

"Great!" Beck smiled. "I promise you're not going to be disappointed."

* * *

**A little while later…**

Beck and Jade entered a small neighborhood seafood joint by the name of 'Rip Van Winkle's'. The owner noticed the two and walked over to them.

"Hey, Beck Oliver!" The large, chubby man greeted the Detective, shaking his hand. "Good to see you! You want the usual?"

"Better make it two, Sean. I brought company." Beck answered, jerking a thumb towards Jade.

Sean nodded and walked back towards the kitchen as Beck and Jade took a seat in the corner booth. A moment later, Sean brought out two servings of clam chowder.

"Who's your lady friend, Beck?" Sean asked, a suggestive undertone present in the way he spoke.

Beck's eyebrows furrowed.

"Sean, this is Special Agent Jade West of the FBI." Beck informed the old man sternly.

"The FBI? Don't take this the wrong way…" Sean said, looking her up and down, "but you're way too good lookin' to be a Fed."

"Oh, well… thanks?" Jade replied uncertainly.

"And polite to boot! I really like this one, Beck." Sean smiled.

Beck cringed.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." Jade shrugged it off with a smile.

"Listen, Agent West, you ever want to trade in that badge for an apron, I got a job waiting tables for you." Sean offered. "Anyway, you guys didn't come here to talk to me. Bon appetit!" And with that, Sean finally returned to the kitchen.

Jade took a sip of her chowder, instantly smiling in surprise.

"Hey, this tastes great! How'd you find this place?" Jade asked.

"Find it? I was practically born here. My great-grandfather started this restaurant after he left the police force." Beck informed her. "It got sold during World War II, but Sean's family has always treated me like one of their own." He let out a small chuckle. "Who knows? One of these days, I may even try to buy the old place back… I mean, it's a dream, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Jade smiled.

The two continued to eat their chowder, making casual conversation.

* * *

"…Okay, so we're flying through Golden Gate Park at 50 miles per hour. I'm right on the suspect's tail…" Beck continued the story he had been telling for the past minute. "Next thing I know, he swerves off the road and plows straight into a tree!"

"You're kidding me!" Jade remarked, hooked on the story.

"We pull over, and I get out of the car and walk up to him… and the guy, I swear, the guy is covered in blood, he's got shards of windshield in his face… and he's still swerving the wheel around!" Beck laughed. "He's _so high _that he actually thought he was still driving!"

"So what'd you do?" Jade asked, laughing along.

"What do you think I did? I wrote up a speeding ticket and slapped it on the windshield!" Beck smiled.

* * *

"He really thought he was a vampire? Come on. No one _really _thinks they're a vampire." Beck dismissed the story in disbelief.

"Oh yeah? You didn't see the look on his face when I pulled open the window shade and let the sunlight in." Jade argued. "He dropped to the ground and begged us to arrest him!"

* * *

And soon enough, dinner was over.

"Hey, do you want to step out on the patio for a second?" Beck offered. "The view is fantastic."

"Sure." Jade smiled.

The two of them strolled out onto the patio of the restaurant. The cold night air embraced the two as the ocean waves lapped at the pier below. A single star shone high up in the sky.

"So, with the case closed, you're going to be heading out of here soon, right?" Beck asked. "Going on to whatever next psychopath you have to track down?"

"I'll likely stay here until I've assembled a complete profile… but yeah, that's the way it goes." Jade answered softly.

Beck sighed and gazed out across the water. There was something cold in his gaze. Something… hurt, and broken.

"Beck…" Jade began, grabbing his attention, "can I ask a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"What's going on with your wife?" Jade asked the question that had been burning at her mind all evening.

"My wife? What are you talking about? We're doing great." Beck told her quickly.

"Then why aren't you home with her?" Jade asked.

"Well, because we, uh… you and I are getting to know each other and, uhh…" Beck trailed off, struggling to keep up the deception, fiddling with his wedding band nervously. He glanced down and took note of the subconscious gesture. "Yeah, not a lot gets by you, does it?" Beck frowned, leaning back and sighing deeply.

Jade maintained her gaze at the Detective, waiting for a truthful answer.

"My wife left me a month ago." Beck admitted.

"Beck, I'm sorry." Jade frowned.

"Look, you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine." Beck insisted.

"Look, just because society expects men to 'tough it out', doesn't mean you don't feel emotions. You're grieving the end of your relationship." Jade analysed.

"I'm not grieving." Beck insisted. "To be honest, I'm amazed we made it as long as we did."

"If you need someone to talk to…" Jade began.

"I'm fine, really, it's just… it's just the little things that get me. I got up this morning, walked into the kitchen, brewed a pot of coffee, and poured two cups. Then I realized what I'd done. And I just sat there, staring at those two cups of coffee." Beck told her, his voice quivering slightly at the end.

Jade let out a concerned sigh.

"So what'd you do?"

"I drank them, that's what I did. I'm not going to waste coffee." Beck answered with a tiny smile.

"Makes sense." Jade agreed, before leaning over and squeezing Beck's arm. "Yeah, I think you're going to be okay."

"Thanks for listening. You know, you're the first person I've told about this." Beck admitted. "Anyway, now that I've bared my soul, it's your turn. What's your dark secret? What'd you do to get put on this beat?" Beck interrogated.

Jade frowned, the memories coming back to her again. The blistering Miami sun… the smell of blood… the wall of sirens…

And her trembling, blood-stained hands…

"I… it's nothing. I should go. This was a lovely dinner." Jade quickly deflected the question, turning to leave.

"Jade…" Beck frowned regretfully.

"Good night, Beck." Jade said firmly, leaving the Detective alone under the night sky.

That night, Jade sat on the bed in her hotel room, and looked to the window. With one hand, she rubbed her left shoulder… and the long, jagged scar that ran down it. A lightning bolt burst over the city as thunderclouds poured down rain.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Dr. Rose awakened to the sound of rain pelting a glass window. Groggily, he opened his eyes, examining his surroundings. He lay in a sterile, white hospital room. He was breathing through a tube. He couldn't move his arms or legs. A uniformed officer stood guard at the door.

"Hey, you awake yet?" Officer William Rye asked.

Rose opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

"Yeah, I thought so. You know, I saw what you did to those girls." William told him, a look of disgust forming on his face. "Can't believe we're wasting good money patching you up. Ain't nothing right about that."

Rose continued to struggle to speak up and defend himself, but… nothing.

"Yeah, whatever. You're gonna get the needle, and that's more'n you deserve." William informed the doctor, hearing a commotion outside in the hall. "What the…? Sit tight, creep. I'm gonna check this out." The officer ordered, stepping out of the room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

A moment later, the door creaked open… and a dark figure stepped into the room. Rose looked him up and down. The black hoodie, jeans, boots… the pair of black gloves… the white, featureless mask.

The masked figure stepped towards Rose and placed a gloved hand over his nose and mouth. Rose attempted to thrash about, but his arms and legs would not respond. A look of terror flashed across his face as he realized what was going to happen. His lungs screamed for air, and his body shuddered violently…

And somewhere, very distantly, he could hear the dull whine of his heart monitor as it flatlined.

* * *

**Okay, so I was very tempted to cut this chapter in half too since it's so long, but I just couldn't find a reasonable place to cut it without having one extremely short chapter, so this is what you guys get.**

**Anyway… dun dun DUUUUNNNNN! Who thought Rose was the killer? Who still does? And what is Jade hiding from everyone? Find out in… some… future chapter.**

**Guest (anonymous): 4**

**GlitterGirl123: Thanks for the support! And don't worry... your review wasn't boring at all (I say that because... look at the review right below it and compare)!**

**Jeremy Shane: Thank You & More Reviews Please**

**xXlostinparadiseXx (Nikki): DAMMIT Nikki! You ruined the surprise!**


	8. Unlocking the Past

******WARNING, EVERYONE: CASSANDRA234 SPOILED THE IDENTITY OF THE KILLER IN HER REVIEW. UNLESS YOU WANT THE BIGGEST PLOT TWIST IN THE STORY TO BE SPOILED, I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT READ THROUGH THE REVIEWS ON THIS STORY UNTIL THE KILLER'S IDENTITY IS REVEALED.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**The next morning…**

Jade decided to swing by the police station, shivering from the cold, her black boots soaked with rainwater from last night's thunderstorm. Beck instantly looked up from his desk.

"Hey, Jade. Did you hear the news?" Beck asked.

"News?" Jade responded, unaware of what had happened last night.

"Dr. Rose died in the hospital last night. Apparently, his lungs gave out. No evidence of foul play." Beck informed her.

"Well, there's justice for you, I suppose." Jade replied grimly.

"No suspect means no trial… which means the case is closed." Beck said.

"Well, I'd still like to stop by his house and go through some of the evidence there." Jade told him.

"Really? What for?" Beck asked, confused.

"To understand his psychology! I mean, come on, Dr. Rose wasn't _just _a serial killer. He was one of the smartest and most sophisticated killers we've ever encountered. Any insight I can get into his personality will provide invaluable information when it comes to updating our profiling techniques." Jade argued.

"I gotcha. Next time someone starts making plaster masks out of girls' faces, you're going to want to know where to look." Beck chuckled.

"In a sense? Yes." The agent nodded.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Why would you do that? I thought you didn't think highly of profiling… shouldn't you be 'hitting the street'?" Jade questioned him.

"When I was suspended, my active cases were assigned to other detectives. And besides, I've got a stake in this case. If there's something in there that'll help me understand how Rose could've done those things… I'd like to see it." Beck defended himself.

"Then sure, be my guest. But remember, we've only got a day to do this, and there is, quite frankly, an ungodly amount of crap down there." Jade reminded him.

"So basically, you're saying to stay out of your way?" Beck finished her thought.

"I'm just saying, just stay focused and try to search for anything particularly revealing."

"So stay out of your way."

"We really are starting to work like a team!" Jade smiled as the two began to walk towards the exit. "You know, I've been meaning to ask… what _did_ you get suspended for anyway?"

"Aaaah, I punched the mayor's son." Beck shrugged it off.

Jade let out a small chuckle.

"Why?"

"Let's just say it pays not to piss me off."

* * *

**A little while later…**

Beck and Jade arrived at the house in Pacific Heights. It was roped off by police tape, and a huge crowd of gawkers was gathered around. Beck scoffed in irritation.

"Typical. Yesterday, these people were in a panic over the Maskmaker. Today, they're falling over themselves to catch a glimpse of his handiwork."

"Play nice." Jade warned him, suddenly noticing someone familiar in the crowd. "Hey, wait a minute… is that who I think it is?" She asked, pointing a finger towards the man in question.

The two stepped towards the crowd.

"Boggs! What are you doing here?" Jade asked suspiciously, instantly recognizing the face of Lance Boggs, owner of 'Italia Imports and Exports'.

"Oh! Agent West! I was hoping to run into you!" Lance smiled. "I'd like to offer my assistance!"

"Your assistance? What the hell could you possibly assist us with?" Beck asked condescendingly.

"Detective Oliver, I'm this city's leading expert when it comes to masks, and I'm confident the killer has quite the collection." Lance argued sternly. "If you'd like, I can help you identify any you find down there!"

"We're grateful for the help." Jade spoke up. Beck turned to her in angered surprise.

"What? Are you serious? _This _creep?"

"Creep or not, he might know something that can help us." Jade defended Lance.

"You see, unlike you, Detective, your partner can appreciate a man of generous intellect." Lance smiled triumphantly. "Now then, if you'll just let me into the crime scene…"

"No way in hell." Beck interrupted, crossing his arms.

"But…" Lance started to argue, his look of triumph dissolving into one of disappointment.

"Sorry, Boggs. That's not the deal. If I see anything relevant, I'll send you a picture." Jade told him firmly.

"But I… I wanted to… I…" Lance took a deep breath and collected himself. "Fine. Have it your way." Lance surrendered coldly, skulking off.

"Man, I _hate _that guy." Beck commented as he and Jade lifted the police tape and headed through the house, descending into the Maskmaker's lair.

A few lights had been hung on the walls to brighten up the basement, but it was still as cluttered and disorienting as Jade remembered it.

Robbie was there, carefully shining a blacklight over a stain on the floor.

"Special Agent West. Detective Oliver. Good to see you." He greeted his colleagues.

"Hey, Rob. What's the setup here?" Beck asked, looking around.

"The basement's divided into two big rooms. This one looks like Dr. Rose used it mostly for storage… pictures, newspapers, photos… down the hall is the other room. It has his tools and other equipment. It looks like he used it for practicing his… craft. Feel free to look around… just be careful when handling any evidence." Robbie informed them, adjusting his thick-framed, black glasses.

"Did you find anything in the rest of the house?" Jade asked.

"Nothing. It looks like Rose barely even set foot inside it." Robbie answered.

"Have we confirmed that Rose owns the house?" Jade continued to probe.

"Actually, no." Beck spoke up. "I looked into that. The house was purchased by a 'Michael Resler'." He informed them.

"A pseudonym?" Jade theorized.

"Since the only match with that name is an accountant who died in 1998, that's my best guess." Beck agreed. "And with his mob ties, Rose would've had an easy enough time setting it up."

"So he bought the house under a false name and used it solely as storage for his compulsions… but why buy a multimillion dollar house in a ritzy neighborhood if you're not going to live in it?" Jade questioned.

"My guess? The basement. Not a lot of houses in San Francisco have a space like this… big, sound-proof, and totally private." Beck theorized. "Now, let's take a look round."

"Okay, but remember, there's a lot of stuff down here, and we only have one day. We have to be smart in what we choose to focus on." Jade reminded him.

"Smart. Focused. Got it." Beck repeated, jumping up and down on the spot to get energized. Jade sighed, looking around the first room again.

It was a cluttered mess. Newspapers covered the floor and were taped to the walls. A desk sat in the corner, covered in folders and photographs. Various words were carved into the walls and ceiling. Several masks rested on a shelf.

Jade wandered into the second room where she had found Dr. Rose. It looked like an operating room, with a tile floor and stark, clean walls. A table covered in tools sat in the middle of the room. A wardrobe stood by the far wall. Several dummies lay in a corner.

Taking her pick of what to check out first, Jade walked across the room and pulled open the heavy, wooden doors of the wardrobe. A heavy lab coat was hung up. Beneath it was a bag of medical supplies. Jade examined the lab coat.

_Standard lab issue… the name and tags have been removed, of course…_

"Hey, there's something in the pocket." Jade muttered to herself, reaching inside the pocket.

Beck came over as Jade pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. Jade unfolded it. It was an old photograph. It showed two people standing on a concrete pier at some kind of tourist attraction: a woman and a boy. They were holding hands. The faces had been removed from the photo, but Jade could see that the woman had bright, red hair.

"Well, that's interesting." Beck commented. "Kid and his mom?"

"I don't think so… the girl looks too young." Jade argued. "Teenage sister, I'm guessing." Jade sighed. "But look at what he did to the faces. The boy's face was just cut out with scissors… the usual, discipline and control… but the girl's face was scratched out. This is the first thing I've seen in here that demonstrates passion and emotion… even if that emotion is _hatred_."

* * *

**June 15****th****, 1988.**

A young boy stood on a concrete pier. The smell of saltwater and rotting fish hung heavily in the air. He posed with his sister as their mother took a picture.

"Okay, everybody! Say cheese!" She grinned, holding up the camera.

"Cheese!" His sister said.

The boy did not make a sound.

The camera shutter made a sound like a spring-loaded trap.

"Hey, little man. You okay? You didn't smile." His mom frowned.

"I'm sorry, I just…" He began to excuse himself.

"Really? All you had to do was smile, you little freak." His sister interrupted angrily. "Now we have to do it again." She complained, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Ow! Let go of me!" The boy yelled, trying to shake off her grip. "Let go!"

"You want me to let go? Fine!" She said, pushing him back sharply. The boy stumbled and fell to the pavement.

"_Owwww!_" The boy cried, tears welling up in his eyes. He raced away.

"What? Where's he going?" Their mother asked.

"Who cares? He's a big crybaby anyhow." The teenage girl responded in disgust.

The boy ran until he couldn't run any longer, until the roll of blood surging through his veins blocked out all other sound. At the edge of the docks, he looked down into the black, oil-sheened water.

"It's not fair." The boy muttered to himself, taking in a deep breath. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screamed, startling the birds into flying away from the docks.

The boy grabbed the railing at the side of the cliff and slammed his forehead into it. It split open, and blood dripped down between his eyes.

"_IT'S NOT FAIR!_"

* * *

"Most serial killers have a history of childhood trauma. Based on this photo, I'd bet that's what we're looking at." Jade assumed.

"So Dr. Rose's sister…" Beck began to theorize.

"That's just it though. Dr. Rose doesn't have a sister. I read his file, and he's an only child." Jade pointed out.

"Oh, come on." Beck scoffed. "We found the guy wearing a mask in the…"

"I know, I know." Jade interrupted. "But this doesn't fit, Beck. And that means we need to look more closely at it."

Beck grabbed the photo from Jade's hands and flipped it over. Printed on the back was an address.

"'983 Nero Road, Tiburon'… hell, I know that place. It's just over the bridge in Marin." Beck said, his voice rising.

"I'd like to stay here and keep looking. Mind checking it out?" Jade asked.

"Sure, my curiosity's piqued. And I'll drop a copy of the photo off at the lab on the way." Beck answered.

* * *

**Half an hour later…**

Beck pulled up outside the address on Nero Road. The house was very old, the lawn overgrown with weeds.

_Doesn't look like anyone lives here…_

Beck got out of his car and walked up to the front door as an old woman walked up the sidewalk.

"Excuse me? Sir? Can I help you with something?" The elderly woman asked in a frail voice.

"Can you answer a few questions about this house?" Beck asked.

"Why, of course! I'd be delighted to!" The woman answered happily.

"Great! Let's start with, do you know who lives here?" He asked.

"Why, no one lives here. Not anymore." She told him.

"In a neighborhood like this? An abandoned house seems out of place." Beck argued.

"Oh, it's not really _abandoned_. It's just… well, I suppose it's like a historical landmark. You see, the man that owns it has long since moved away… but he can't bear to see the family home be resold. He refused to sell it, and pays me to come by twice a week to keep up the place." She informed the Detective.

Beck subtly glanced at the calf-high weeds in the front yard.

"Looks like you're doing a bang-up job. So can you tell me who this owner is?"

"He's… his name is… it's, umm…" The woman struggled. "Oh dear, I can't remember." She frowned. Beck internally sighed. "He sends me his checks in the mail, you see… I've never actually met him."

Beck quietly groaned in frustration.

"Well how long has this house been empty?" Beck asked.

"Oh, for at least five years now. A family used to live here, before then... a mother, and her two children. A boy and a girl. And then… something happened… I, I can't remember what. Something quite terrible… and after that, there were no more children. Just the mother."

Beck took mental notes of all of this with ever-increasing curiosity.

"She died a few years back… and after that, the man came and made me the offer!" The old woman said.

"…Fascinating." Beck responded. "Ma'am, do you mind if I take a look inside the house?"

"Oh, well, I… I mean… what is this about?" She asked uncertainly.

"A gas leak." Beck lied. "Nothing to worry about, ma'am. We've just had some complaints about gas smells in the neighborhood. I just need to do a routine check-in to make sure everything is in working order."

"Well, I…I try to take care of the place…" The woman insisted, slightly offended, "but I suppose I can help you look."

The old woman walked forward slowly and opened the front door. Beck stepped inside the house and marvelled at how 'new' everything looked. The high-class, expensive furniture all over the house looked as though it had been bought out of a store that morning.

_Pristine and untouched for at least ten years… this place might as well be frozen in amber. Nothing suspicious though… but then again, maybe I'm not looking in the right place._

The basement of the house was dark, musty and empty. The old woman stood in the stairway as Beck walked down.

"You won't find anything down there… it's completely empty." She called after him.

"Ma'am, I'd just like to check." Beck persisted.

After searching for a few minutes and, indeed, finding nothing, Beck came across a loose cinder block. The instant he pried it free, a horrific smell wafted forth into the room. The old woman went pale.

"Oh my word!" She exclaimed in shock and horror.

"Yeah. That is a _lot _of animal skulls."

* * *

**December 10****th****, 1989.**

The boy had taken refuge in the cavernous, dirt-walled basement beneath his family home. He removed a dingy drop cloth from over a wire-frame cage. Inside the cage, a weakened, bloody bird fluttered.

"What happened here, birdie? Tried to peck off your own leg? You should've known better. My traps are perfect." The boy spoke to the bird sinisterly, pulling out a pocket knife and extending the blade. "So, Mr. Birdie, have you had enough?" He asked. No reply. "I think… no. There's lots more fun to be had!"

The boy poked the bird with his switchblade, making sure no single cut was deep enough to be fatal. The bird chirped in agony and twitched.

"Getting tired, Birdie? That's probably because you've lost a lot of blood."

The bird rasped weakly.

"Aw, you're no more fun." The boy complained coldly, driving his blade through the small, fragile skull of the animal. It spasmed and then went limp. "Heh. Got you."

"Oh my god! Ew! What did you just do, you little freak?!" His sister recoiled in horror from halfway up the stairs. "I always knew you were a sick little freak. This just proves it. I'm going to tell Mom what you've done, and then you're going to get it good." She said triumphantly.

"No! Don't!" The boy cried in panic. "You tell Mom, and I'll tell her about what you do to me! About the slaps and the mask and… and everything!" He threatened unconvincingly.

"Please!" She scoffed. "As if she'll _ever _believe you! She'll just think you're doing it to yourself!"

"I… I… I'll…" The boy stuttered in defeat. "I'll pay you."

"Pay me? With what? _Animal bones_? Mom doesn't give you any allowance." His sister argued. "But that gives me an idea. Now I've got something to hold over you. If you _ever _do something I don't like, I can tell Mom about your little biology class!" She smiled sinisterly.

"You wouldn't." The young boy tested the redhead.

"Watch me." She replied without hesitation.

He cried out in anger and panic and rushed towards his sister, but she reached out and shoved him back down before he could even reach her.

"Ow! That hurt!" He cried, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm out of here." She said, exiting up the stairs.

As she went, she cut off the light, leaving her younger brother alone in the darkness, his eyes burning with tears and his nose filled with the scent of freshly split blood.

"I hate her…" He muttered angrily to himself.

* * *

**And just when you thought the case was closed… ;)**

**Keep sending in those reviews! I appreciate it so much!**

**GlitterGirl123: Wow, that's so kind of you to say! Thanks for the support!**

**Cassie (anonymous): Aww, thanks for the support!**

**Cassandra234 (be warned, there is a rant incoming): I'm not 'claiming' ownership to anything. I specifically mention at the start of EACH CHAPTER that "I do not own anything" and so you really can't get annoyed with me for 'claiming' to own it. And what purpose did that serve? Other people who have read this story and reviewed having experienced it previously have not bothered to post spoilers in their reviews. Why did you? What satisfaction did you get out of it? All you did was ruin a genuinely well-written story for anyone unfortunate enough to innocently read through the reviews and notice what you just said. I hope you feel proud of yourself. And the fact that you've disabled your PMs makes it even worse and shows you in a... pretty pathetic light. I'm expecting an apology in your next review.**

** WARNING, EVERYONE: CASSANDRA234 SPOILED THE IDENTITY OF THE KILLER IN HER REVIEW. UNLESS YOU WANT THE BIGGEST PLOT TWIST IN THE STORY TO BE SPOILED, I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT READ THROUGH THE REVIEWS ON THIS STORY UNTIL THE KILLER'S IDENTITY IS REVEALED.**


	9. Unmasked

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Back in the Maskmaker's lair, Special Agent Jade West examined some burned-up scraps of paper in a trashcan.

_This is interesting… he burned these papers pretty hastily, so I can't make much out… but they look like handwritten notes. What's this one say? Reb…? Rebel? Rebellion?_

"Ahem. Excuse me? Agent West?" Robbie grabbed her attention. "I'm going to be heading back to the lab to drop off these samples. I think I've gathered more than enough."

"Oh. Sure." Jade shrugged.

Robbie glanced around the basement to make sure the room was empty.

"May I… have a word with you? About something personal?" Robbie asked so softly that Jade almost didn't hear him.

"Sure…" Jade nodded hesitantly.

"I've been led to believe that Cat might have spoken to you recently. Regarding her… romantic feelings… towards me?" Robbie mentioned, shifting uneasily.

"She might have… but what she told me isn't your business." Jade told him.

"No, of course not!" Robbie agreed, shaking his head. "I just wanted to tell you that… if she happens to talk to you about it again… I'd appreciate it if you dissuaded her from pursuing anything with me. I'm a private person by nature, Agent West. I like to keep my love life and my work life separate." He said. "Cat's a very nice girl, but she's naïve… innocent. And I would hate to see her get hurt. Can you respect that?" Robbie asked.

"Yeah, sure." Jade nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Special Agent West. I appreciate your discretion." Robbie thanked her, smiling.

Robbie turned and walked towards the door. Beck entered, squeezing by him.

"Find anything at the house?" Jade asked.

"Yeah. A bunch of animal skulls. Rabbits and squirrels, mostly, but a couple of cats as well." Beck answered grimly.

"So he spent his boyhood torturing animals? That's typical serial killer behavior." Jade analysed.

"Except Dr. Rose didn't spend his childhood in San Francisco. He grew up in Wisconsin, and moved here when he was 25." Beck pointed out.

"That doesn't make any sense…" Jade muttered.

"My thought exactly. I also found this underneath all the skulls." Beck agreed, handing Jade an old and faded ticket.

"Is this a ferry ticket?" Jade asked, examining it.

"All I can make out is the date… July 18th, 1990. The rest is too faded, but it looks touristy… maybe from one of the piers?" Beck suggested. "I'll drop it by the lab later tonight."

"This doesn't add up, Beck." Jade insisted.

"I know. But what else can we do except keep looking around?" Beck said.

Nodding in agreement, Jade continued to look around the basement. Her attention was drawn to the masks resting on the shelf. The masks were heavily ornamented and gilded. They reminded Jade of masquerade masks. Jade carefully slid the masks to the side.

_Huh… look at this! There's an electrical wire running behind the masks… but I don't think it goes to any light fixtures._

Jade cautiously followed the wire, and saw that it ran through a narrow crack in one of the basement walls. Jade raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

_A hidden compartment?_

Jade was tempted to check it out herself, but ended up deciding on getting a second opinion on it.

"Beck! Come look at this." Jade called him.

Beck walked over and examined the wall panel, squinting through the crack.

"Tricky, tricky…" Beck muttered to himself.

"Well? Should we open it?" Jade asked impatiently.

"Not quite yet…" Beck answered, unhooking his pocket knife and gently easing it through the crack. The sound of a thin wire being cut hit Jade's ears. "There. _Now _we can open it." Beck confirmed.

He slid open the panel, revealing a crude metal device strapped to the back of it, with a thin slit wire hanging off it.

"An amateur pipe bomb. Probably built from instructions off the internet. If you'd pried that door open, it would've detonated." Beck told Jade coldly.

A shiver ran down Jade's spine.

"Oh my god…" She whispered to herself.

"Can we get a bomb tech in here? _Now!_" Beck called up to the other officers.

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later…**

Having had the bomb tech squad in to dispose of the bomb, Beck and Jade stood in front of the panel.

"Now let's see what he's got squirreled away…" Beck said, shining a light into the dark compartment in the wall…

And finding a locked digital safe.

"Oh, this just gets better and better." Beck furrowed his eyebrows. "We've got a safecracker on staff, but there's no way we'll get him down here in time."

"So what, should we just try to guess the password?" Jade asked.

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that? It could be anything!" Beck argued, irritated.

"This entire basement is a shrine to a singularly broken psychology. My guess? His password had to do with his obsessions. Let's just think closely about what motivates him." Jade suggested.

"Yeah… that, or keep looking around, I suppose." Beck replied.

Deciding to keep searching the basement for clues as to what the safe password could possibly be, Jade wandered over to the desk. The top of it was covered in newspaper clippings. There were several unopened drawers. Jade picked up some of the newspaper clippings and read them out.

"'Maskmaker strikes again'… 'Maskmaker terrorizes city'… 'Third victim identified as Sophie Ellison'…" Jade listed.

"Looks like he's got every article on him ever written." Beck observed as Jade picked up a particularly interesting clipping.

"Yeah… but look at this! 'Young woman found strangled in alley'… the date's 2009. _Before _the first victim." Jade noticed.

"You think he killed before? Just without the masks?" Beck asked.

"Maybe… or maybe he was just researching unsolved murders to see how to best get away with one." Jade theorized.

Putting down the newspaper clippings, Jade opened the drawers, finding them stuffed with photos of women.

"All redheads… ages 18-24… petite…" Jade examined.

"Porn?" Beck assumed.

"No. These are pictures of women at bars and clubs. Women walking down the street…" Jade corrected the Detective.

"So he's a voyeur as well." Beck interrupted.

"Not a voyeur, just… ravenous. This fixation… it's like it utterly consumed him." Jade analysed, stepping away from the desk as her phone rang. A text from Cat.

_Analysed the photo of the sister and brother you sent me. Noticed something interesting._

"It looks like Cat zoomed in on the sister's wrist. There's a bracelet there, but I can only make out part of it… 'ebec'. The beginning and end of the word is left out." Jade noticed.

"What the hell is an 'ebec'? Is that like an ibex?" Beck wondered out loud.

"I don't know. It's not much to go off of…" Jade trailed off.

Jade headed back over to the shelf of masks, snapping a picture of the masks.

"What are you doing?" Beck asked.

"Boggs." Jade reminded him. Beck rolled his eyes as Jade sent the picture to Lance. A minute later, she got a text back, which she read out loud. "'Commedia Dell'Arte masks. Venetian. Definitely authentic, 18th century. Probably not worth very much, but I could be convinced to take them off your hands for a small sum."

"Which means they're probably worth a fortune. Real helpful." Beck assumed.

Jade stepped away from the masks, heading over to the wall with all the words carved into it.

"'We All Wear Masks'… 'Face Your True Face'… 'Stain'… 'Stain'… 'Stain'… over and over again." Jade observed in fascination.

"Not your usual 'Tommy Loves Kate'." Beck joked.

"But look at how precisely they were carved. Look at the deliberation. They suggest a psychosis… but an incredibly disciplined mind as well." Jade pointed out, running a finger across the carvings. "And look at this one. He tried to scratch it out, but it wasn't enough. 'R.R.', it says."

"'R.R.'? A relative, maybe?" Beck suggested.

Jade shrugged, heading into the second room and back to the wardrobe she'd left open earlier. She checked out the contents of the bag of medical supplies.

"Latex gloves… surgical solvent… rubber boots… no wonder we never got any DNA! He was one step short of wearing a Hazmat suit!" Jade complained, stepping away from the wardrobe.

Next, Jade turned to the operating table. On the top row of the table lay plaster-working tools: a palette knife, a knife, and a find brush. Beneath the table were several syringes.

"These are high-quality tools. Stainless steel construction, ergonomic handles… there's a symbol engraved on the handle… 'I.I.A.E.'…" Jade said.

"Italia Imports and Exports." Beck finished for her.

"I guess Dr. Rose was a regular." Jade theorized, leaning down to check out the syringes under the operating table. "Succinylcholine. I'm betting the batch numbers will match the vial found on the beach."

"Look underneath them. Scalpels. Guess he likes to have them on hand in case things go bad." Beck observed.

Jade stepped away from the operating table, turning to the dummies in the corner.

"All female… all with plaster masks of their faces. I see what Robbie meant about practicing." Jade said. "Okay, I think that's everything there is to see in here…"

"So we're guessing a password?" Beck asked.

Jade nodded in agreement, heading back to the hidden compartment in the front room.

"Let's see here…" Jade said.

Jade ran everything she had found through her head, the cogs turning faster than they had ever turned before.

_Pictures of redheaded girls…_

_His family photo with his redheaded sister…_

'_R.R.'…_

'_Stain', 'Stain', 'Stain'…_

'_ebec'…_

_Wait a minute…_

'_R.R.', 'ebec'… his sister…_

Without hesitation, Jade input a single word into the password mechanism.

Rebecca.

The safe whirred for a moment, and then clicked open.

"Haha! Nicely done!" Beck praised her joyously.

"'ebec'… 'Rebecca'… that must be his sister's name!" Jade said excitedly.

She reached into the safe… and pulled out an old plastic mask, sized for a child's head.

"Okay, now _that _is super creepy." Beck remarked.

* * *

**July 3****rd****, 1990.**

The boy sat silently in the den of his house. He could hear his mother arguing with a child psychologist in the next room. His sister stepped into the doorway.

"They think you're sick, you know that? They found out what you do to animals, and now they think your brain is messed up. But I know the truth. You're not sick. You're a _stain_. And the only thing to do with a stain is to _cover it up _so no one can see it." His older sister told him coldly, pulling out a blank white mask and forcing it over the boy's face. "There. Now nobody ever has to look at your disgusting face again."

The boy fumbled the mask off and dropped it to the floor.

"I'm… I'm not a stain…" He weakly defended himself, failing to even look his sister in the eyes.

"Yes you are!" She persisted. "You're a freak! You're disgusting!"

She grabbed him by the arm.

"Say it. Say that you're disgusting." She ordered him.

"I… I… I'm disgusting." He said quietly, tears welling up in his eyes.

"That's right. You are. Now say that you're a sorry, little freak who still wets the bed." She continued.

"I'm a…" He sniffed, "I'm a sorry, little freak…"

His sister grabbed him violently by the hair.

"You're not done, maggot. Say you wet the bed!" She commanded hatefully.

"No, I…"

"SAY IT!"

"I still wet the bed!" He yelled, a single tear streaming down his face.

"Enough!" Their mother yelled from the doorway. "What is this?" She asked, kneeling beside the boy. "What's going on here?"

The boy was crying so hard he couldn't even get the words out that he so desperately wanted to.

"Don't look at me." His sister defended herself. "Ask the little freak. He's crazy!"

"Oh, my little baby… my poor, little baby…" Their mother sobbed. "I want to let you know that we'll be taking one last trip as a family, and then you'll be going away for a bit." She told him. "You'll be going someplace where they can help you be better. Okay?"

The boy remained silent.

* * *

"He kept this mask from childhood hidden away deep, rather than on display." Jade realized. "It must bring back terrible memories for him… but he can't bear to throw it out."

"Look! There's more in there!" Beck pointed out, reaching into the safe and pulling out an old photo and a big, folded up piece of paper.

"This looks like a crime scene photo. It's a young woman's body laid out on a rocky shore, covered by a white sheet." Jade observed. "Again, the face has been scratched out!"

"Where is she? It looks like there's a building in the background… with a barred window?" Beck noticed, before unfolding the big piece of paper.

"A map of the San Francisco Bay?" Jade asked.

"Look at the 'X's. Those must be the places where he made the kills!" Beck theorized.

"Two in the water north of Fisherman's Wharf… and two to the northwest and northeast of Alcatraz Island?" Jade noted. "So he did it out on a boat… but why would the locations be so precise?" The agent questioned, rubbing her temples. "None of this adds up, Beck. None of it. And it definitely doesn't fit with Dr. Rose." She sighed.

"You know we can't go to the Chief with this, Jade. We have these pieces…but they don't fit together."

"There has to be something connecting it all. Something in the evidence we've collected… we just have to think." Jade said, mentally reviewing all of the evidence they had collected.

_A picture of a boy and his sister standing on a concrete pier…_

_An old, faded ferry ticket dated 1990 with a touristy look to it…_

_A picture of a young woman's body covered by a sheet in front of a building with barred windows…_

_And a map of the San Francisco Bay with 'X's near Fisherman's Wharf and Alcatraz Island._

"You want to know what I don't get?" Beck spoke up. "The Maskmaker has this crazy lair all set up, and he's able to drug the girls and kidnap them. So why would he kill them at sea? Why not do it here?"

"That's a good question…" Jade said, deep in thought.

"There's something about _location _that we're missing… something vital to his madness."

_Location… what locations have we got? A concrete pier, Fisherman's Wharf, Alcatraz Island, a building with barred windows…_

_Barred windows… like prison windows?_

"Beck, I… I've got it!" Jade called out triumphantly. "The concrete pier, the barred window, the ferry ticket… and this map? Alcatraz! The connection is Alcatraz Island!" Jade exclaimed.

"You're right!" Beck smiled.

"We need to call Cat right away!" Jade yelled hurriedly.

Cat sat alone in the lab, trying to enhance the details on the photo that Beck left, when her phone started ringing.

"Hello?" Cat answered.

"Cat. It's Beck. We need you to look something up in the police archives right away." He told her.

"Sure, boss! What's up?" Cat asked.

"We need to know if anything happened at Alcatraz in 1990… anything involving the death of a young woman." Beck said.

"That's… kind of odd… but sure." Cat agreed, sitting down at her computer and typing the data in. "Let's see… Alcatraz, 1990… searching… searching… aha! Here!" Cat said excitedly. "'Young Woman Tragically Drowns on Alcatraz Tour'! It says here the police suspected foul play!"

"What's the woman's name?" Beck asked.

"Rebecca Resler." Cat answered, and at that moment, the pieces in Beck's head began to click into place.

"Resler…that's the name on this house! Look her up! Who's her family?" Beck urged the technician.

"Father is Michael Resler, an accountant, deceased in 1998… mother is Suzanne Resler, homemaker, deceased, 2000… she has a brother who is still alive. A… Brian Resler." Cat read out. "Huh. Looks like he was institutionalized in 1991… at the age of 12!"

"Was he released?" Beck probed.

"Yeah, in 2006… and then his file goes blank. No more information on him. I wonder if he changed his name…" Cat mumbled to herself, her curiosity piqued. "Beck, what's this all about?"

"Cat, in all likelihood, this 'Brian' is the Maskmaker. Is there _anything _else? A picture, perhaps?" Beck pressed.

"Not here… but if I access the mental institution's archives, I might be able to find his file… aha! Here it is! Patient 3780, Brian Resler! I'll just open it up and… and… and I'll… and… oh my god." Cat stared at the picture, thunderstruck.

"Cat! What is it? What's wrong?" Beck asked in desperation.

_It can't be._

"Beck, it's… it's…" She struggled to say the name in shock and horror.

"Yeah?!"

"It's Robbie. It's a picture of Robbie."

The door behind Cat swung open.

"Cat?" Robbie greeted the young woman, who frantically turned off her monitor and slammed down the phone.

"Robbie! It's you! I, uh, didn't see you over there!" Cat replied nervously.

"Well, I don't know why. I came right in through the front door." Robbie pointed out suspiciously. He walked up to her and set down a bag of samples. Cat stiffened up in fright. "Were you just… talking about me? I thought I heard my name."

"Yes, I was. I was just… um… talking to Agent West. She said you'd. uh… be coming by." Cat lied unconvincingly.

"Hmm…" Robbie wondered, taking a step forward. "Is something the matter? You seem upset." He frowned, taking another step towards Cat and running one hand along the tools on the table. "You seem tense. Are you tense?"

"Robbie, I'm fine." Cat assured him, managing to recollect herself a little.

Robbie took another step, now within an arm's reach of Cat.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his piercing gaze meeting Cat's own.

Cat took a step towards him, confidently.

"I'm sure." Cat smiled. "I'm just distracted. I've just got my own things going on."

"Oh, sure, I can imagine. Things have been more than a little hectic around here." Robbie chuckled.

"You can say that again." Cat agreed. She went to turn away, but Robbie suddenly grabbed her arm.

"If you don't mind me asking… what _precisely _is distracting you?"

Cat struggled to return his gaze.

"Well, it's just that… uh… my mother is sick and…" She began.

"Your mother?" He interrupted.

"Yeah." Cat confirmed, nodding rapidly.

"Oh, that's too bad." Robbie frowned, sliding the bulky lab phone towards Cat. "Why don't you give her a call, then? To see how she's doing?" He suggested. Cat held in a shudder of terror as her gaze shifted to the telephone sat in front of her.

_Oh god, this receiver is so loud… he'll hear everything she's saying!_

"Go ahead. Dial the number." The man insisted.

"I… that's an excellent idea." Cat said, struggling to keep up her façade of calmness as she dialled the number.

_Don't pick up… don't pick up…_

After three rings, the phone picked up.

"…Hello? Cat, is that you?" The woman asked.

"Mom?"

"Cat, are you okay, honey? You sound a little…" Her mother worried.

"No. I… I'm fine. I was just calling to see how you're feeling." Cat interrupted.

"Oh, thank you for calling, dear. As a matter of fact, I have been a little under the weather lately." The woman told Cat, who let out a sigh of relief. "But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. How are you?"

"Well, I can't really talk now, but I wanted you to know that I love you. I really love you. I need you to know that." Cat told her, using all her willpower not to break down into tears.

"Oh, honey. I love you too. Take care."

She hung up the phone.

"Satisfied, Robbie?" Cat asked impatiently. "Now can I get back to work?"

"Yes… I mean, I'm sorry." Robbie frowned. "I don't know what came over me."

"Well… just forget it." Cat sighed. "This Maskmaker case has us all on edge, right?"

"But the Maskmaker is dead." Robbie reminded her.

"I know, but I'm still on a sleep deficit from processing all the evidence, and..." Cat insisted.

"…Right. Go home. I can take over from here." Robbie finished for her.

"Thanks, Robbie. Bye!" Cat hurriedly said, almost jogging towards the door to leave the room. Cat grabbed the handle and began to turn it to leave…

When she heard the sound of her monitor booting up. Robbie stared at a picture of himself.

"You liar!" Robbie yelled. Like a bolt, Robbie leaped across the room and was on her. Cat raked her fingernails across Robbie's cheek, drawing blood.

"Ow! That hurt!" Robbie yelled, delivering a crushing backhand. Cat toppled against the counter. Feeling around, she grabbed a pair of scissors and slashed at Robbie with them, splitting the webbing between his index finger and thumb. "ARRRGGGH!" Robbie screamed in pain and fury.

In an instant, Robbie was upon her again. He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jammed it into Cat's neck. A terrible chill coursed through her veins. She spasmed, then lay still. Robbie laid her paralyzed body on the ground. He trembled and tensely ran his hands through her bright, red hair.

"I thought… I thought you were different… I should have known. I should have known!" Robbie cursed himself.

Suddenly, the door to the lab opened behind them. Robbie immediately jumped back, away from the woman.

"Hey, Cat, did we get those prints from the convenience store bust processed…" Officer William Rye began to ask, suddenly noticing what was going on. "What the…? What happened?" He asked in panic.

"I'm not sure! She just collapsed!" Robbie told the officer.

"Well, don't just stand there. Call an ambulance!" William urged him.

"Sorry! I…" Robbie began to talk.

"NOW!" William shouted.

The officer kneeled beside Cat and opened her eyes wide to examine her pupils.

"Pupils are dilated. Breathing is shallow. Cat, can you hear me?" He asked.

_Yes._

Cat opened her mouth to reply, to tell him everything, but nothing. No words came out. It was hopeless.

"Cat, you need to understand your lungs aren't working like they're supposed to. It's critical that you _keep breathing_, okay? No matter what. Just keep breathing." The officer ordered.

Cat breathed.

"Good. Just like that. Focus on your respiration."

Cat could only breathe as Robbie loomed behind the officer, raising a metal stool over his head.

"Cat? Cat, are you…?"

Robbie brought the stool crashing down on the officer's head. The officer dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"Imbecile." Robbie cursed, walking over to the wall and pulling the fire alarm. The alarm began to ring and water rained down from the sprinkler system. "There. That should be enough confusion to cover our escape."

Robbie lifted Cat into his arms, carrying her gingerly through the police station.

"Robbie, what happened?" Tori asked in shock, running up to them.

"There was a fire in the lab. Cat inhaled some of the smoke." Robbie continued to lie, putting on a frown.

Cat breathed.

"What about your hand?" Tori questions, noticing the blood seeping out of the cut wound.

"Cat broke some test tubes when she collapsed." Robbie said.

"Okay, get Cat some fresh air. Ambulances will be here any minute." Tori hurried them out of the station.

Robbie gripped Cat tightly and walked out. A moment later, a uniformed officer ran up to Captain Vega.

"Captain, get over here!" Officer Anna Willis called to her. "We have an officer down in the Forensics Lab!"

"What happened? Smoke inhalation?" Tori asked.

"No. He was attacked! He said Robbie did it!" The officer told her.

Tori's eyebrows furrowed.

"Robbie?! But Robbie was just…?" Tori trailed off, looking towards the door. Cat and Robbie were nowhere to be found.

* * *

Cat sat in the passenger seat of Robbie's car. The motion of the vehicle caused her head to roll from side to side.

Cat breathed.

Robbie slammed his palm against the wheel.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was supposed to have more time! More practice! No one was supposed to know!" Robbie complained.

Cat breathed.

Her head rolled to the side. Out of the passenger side window, she could see the harbor. Her eyes locked on an old boat.

Cat breathed.

"But now they know it's me… thanks to you… how could you do this to me?! How could you betray me like this?!" Robbie yelled in anger.

Robbie inhaled deeply, and then comfortingly placed his hand on Cat's leg.

"But don't worry. Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." Robbie promised.

Cat breathed.

"I'm just going to reveal your true face."

* * *

**And... there you have it. I am SO SORRY to everyone who had the killer's identity spoiled for them so close to the official revelation. If I had the power to delete the review, believe me, I would have.**

**xxBadeRomancexx: Oooh, turns out you were right! Unfortunately, it _was _one of the Victorious characters!**

**jane (anonymous): I... I think you're standing up for me and this story against Cassandra, but I honestly have no idea what you just said.**

**Love2Write21: Again, I am _so sorry _about that. I hope you still liked the chapter anyway! Thanks for the support!**

**Sylkia Whacamolia: Yes, you figured it out. I am _indeed _Slenderman. :)**


	10. The Devil's Island

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck and Jade burst into the police forensics lab. Water from the sprinklers pooled on the smooth tiled floor. An injured police officer was sitting on a stool, applying an icepack to his temple.

"He came up from behind me…" William faintly explained to Captain Tori Vega, who had already turned around at the sound of Beck and Jade entering.

"Beck! Jade! We've been trying to reach you." Tori told them. "There's been a…"

"We know." Beck interrupted. "Where's Cat?"

Tori frowned and let out a worried sigh.

"She's gone, Beck. Robbie took her." Tori said.

"Goddammit!" Beck yelled, slamming his fist into a nearby cabinet in anger. "He was here all along, right under our noses… how could you let him take her?!" He yelled at his superior.

"I didn't _let _Robbie do anything." Tori scowled. "Robbie duped us, Beck. Same as he duped you, and everybody else in this department."

Beck took a deep breath and recollected himself.

"You're right. I just…" His shoulders dropped. "I blame myself." The Detective admitted.

"Listen, there'll be time for assigning blame later, Beck, but right now we need to focus on getting Cat back." Tori decided.

"You're right." Beck nodded.

"Now, I need you to be focused. It's clear that the two of you know things the rest of us don't. Care to fill us in?" Tori requested.

"Well let's start at the top." Jade spoke up. "Robbie's real name is _Brian Resler_. He's a deeply disturbed sociopath." Jade waited for the Captain to nod in understanding, and then continued. "He was released from a mental institution in 2006, and adopted the false identity of _Robbie Shapiro_. We don't know much about what happened after that… but we do know he's the Maskmaker."

"Why the hell didn't we realize it was him earlier?" Tori growled, frustrated with herself more than anyone. For so long, the serial killer she had been searching the entire city for was right under her nose, in the forensics lab, and she didn't have the slightest clue. She was supposed to be in charge and she was duped completely.

"That's easy. We never had any evidence on the Maskmaker because he ruled himself out." Beck explained. Jade nodded in understanding.

"Like when Cat took my DNA swab?" The Special Agent asked for confirmation.

"Exactly." Beck nodded. "It doesn't matter how good you are. Every criminal leaves _some _evidence behind. But law enforcement personnel have their DNA and fingerprints kept on file. Techs use those records to exclude the individuals working a case from the list of potential suspects." He explained.

"Which means Robbie had my forensics unit unwittingly acting as his accomplice." Tori concluded. "Okay, but how does all of this explain Dr. Rose?"

"I've been thinking about that. After the Dr. Rose trial, we kept his chemicals and equipment in impound. Robbie must have swiped a few vials of succinylcholine…" Beck theorized.

"And that's why the batch numbers matched!" Tori figured it out, clicking her fingers.

"Exactly." Jade agreed. "And when Robbie realized Dr. Rose was a suspect in our investigation, he made sure to frame him for the crime."

"Robbie must've tailed us to the warehouse, and waited for the opportunity to strike…" Beck speculated.

* * *

**Two days ago…**

Dr. Rose bolted out of the rear exit of the warehouse as gunfire raged behind him.

"I've got to… got to get out of here!" He said to himself, panting from exhaustion. He made it to his car door, when a dark figure in a blank, white mask stepped up from behind, making him leap out of his skin. "Who the hell are you?" Rose yelled.

Before the Doctor could even react, the masked man pulled out a syringe and jabbed it into Rose's neck.

"No, please, I…" Rose pleaded. But it was too late. The cold numbness washed over his body before he could even process what had just happened. "I… ugghh…"

* * *

"Robbie kidnapped Dr. Rose, gave him a near-fatal dose of succinylcholine, and dressed him up as the Maskmaker!" Jade figured out, the pieces of the puzzle finally fitting together in her diligent mind.

"He was probably planning to dump Dr. Rose's body somewhere, but he improvised when we located his house." Beck added.

"And left Dr. Rose for me to find in the basement." Jade finished.

"He must have assumed that I would close the case once we had our suspect in custody." Tori pitched in.

"And he was right." Beck commented dryly.

"The million dollar question is: where do we find him?" Tori asked.

"I think I know." Jade said. "Consciously or subconsciously, serial killers attempt to recreate the crimes that defined them."

"So that means we'll find Cat and Robbie at Alcatraz Island." Beck nodded. "Robbie dumped the bodies of his first three victims in the water surrounding Alcatraz."

"Even Brittney Patterson, a girl he killed on impulse, was murdered on a beach with a view of the island." Jade turned to Tori. "That's where he's headed, Captain."

"In that case, we're in luck. The park service maintains a round-the-clock security crew to keep out intruders." Tori informed them. An officer at the far end of the room looked up.

"Actually, Captain… that's not quite right." Officer Phil Morris spoke up, adjusting his dark blue police hat that had almost fallen off his head.

"What are you talking about?" Tori asked, confused.

"I read it in the paper. The island is undergoing renovations right now, so it's completely closed to the public. At best, they've got a tiny skeleton crew." Phil informed the others grimly. Beck turned to Tori.

"You need to warn them, Captain. _Now_." Beck urged.

* * *

**Alcatraz Island**

Park Ranger Wally Lubbock sat at his usual security panel, within the first few hours of his usual night shift, when he noticed something unusual.

"Hey! Ben!" He called to his colleague. "Looks like we've got an unauthorized boat making landfall on the north shore." Lubbock pointed out.

"Want me to check it out, boss?" Ranger Tate offered.

"Nah, I'll go. Doctor says I need more exercise." Ranger Lubbock joked, lifting his old, heavy body from his office chair. He walked through the cellblocks on the way to the docks. Below, through the window, Lubbock could see an old, rusty boat moored in the harbour, swaying ominously in the bitter night wind. Lubbock's hand brushed against his empty holster.

_Son of a… left my gun in my drawer._

Lubbock glanced to the docks, then back to his security office, debating to himself whether it was really worth the effort to go all the way back and get his gun from the drawer. For all he knew, this meeting with whoever docked the boat here could last all of thirty seconds. Sighing, Lubbock continued towards the docks and, a few minutes later, stepped onto them and noticed a young man mooring his vessel.

"Sir, this is a restricted area. You can't dock here." Lubbock told the stranger.

"Oh, hi…" The man said, turning around. In the dark, Lubbock couldn't see him very well, but he could see the moonlight reflecting off of the lenses in the thick, black glasses resting on his nose. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience. You see, I had some engine trouble while I was returning to the marina and… well honestly, I'm grateful I was able to make it to land."

Lubbock nodded slowly, in suspicion.

"Look, I think I've got her started again. If you give me just a couple of minutes, I'll be out of your hair." The man continued.

"Okay, but I'll need to watch." Lubbock told him. "I'm not supposed to do this, but if you can get her out to sea in the next few minutes, I'll let it slide."

"Thanks. I promise you won't…" The man began, being interrupted by a strange thumping sound coming from inside the boat.

"Sir, is there someone else aboard this boat?" Lubbock's eyebrows furrowed.

"Not at all. You must have heard the engine settling…"

"Stand aside, sir. I'm coming aboard." The Ranger ordered, steadily boarding the boat and descending into the cabin. He looked around, but everything was dark. He couldn't see a thing. "This is Ranger Lubbock with the National Park Service. Please come out and identify yourself immediately or…" The moon came out from behind the dark, looming clouds in the sky and light shone down into the room. Lubbock immediately stopped as he noticed a young, redheaded girl lying on the floor, wrists tightly bound.

"H… help…" She cried faintly.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Lubbock panicked, terror washing over him like a hot morning shower. "Listen, I'll get you free, and then you can tell me just what the heck is going on here." He promised, approaching her.

The girl's eyes went wide with horror. Seeing this, Lubbock spun around and found the man standing behind him.

"Freeze! Don't move a muscle!" Lubbock shouted.

"Or what?" The man taunted, eyeing Lubbock's empty holster. Lubbock reached down and remembered he had left his gun in the drawer, terror washing over him all over again. "That's what I thought."

In a flash, the man lunged forward and slit Lubbock's throat with a scalpel. The Park Ranger dropped to his knees and clutched his hands to his neck. His life bled out between his fingers.

"Ugh. Disgusting." The man remarked, turning away.

* * *

Beck and Jade stepped onto the docks near Fisherman's Wharf. Beck strapped on a bullet-proof vest and a shoulder holster as Tori walked towards them with a grim expression on her face, a phone clutched in one hand.

"Beck, I just got a call from dispatch. They can't reach anyone at Alcatraz… the security officers aren't answering." Tori informed him.

"Then they're probably already dead." Beck replied bluntly.

"I'll send in the Coast Guard…" Tori began to dial another number on the phone.

"Captain, with all due respect, the second Robbie sees boats circling the island, he'll kill Cat and then himself." Jade pointed out.

"Okay, so what do you propose?" Tori asked, intrigued.

"Two officers. We take a small, quiet boat, go in under cover of darkness, extract Cat and arrest Robbie." Beck suggested.

"_We_?" The Captain exclaimed.

"That's right. Me and Jade." Beck proposed, having already made up his mind. There was no one else for the job.

"Beck, we have trained SWAT teams for exactly this purpose." Tori pointed out, uncertain if what Beck was displaying was confidence or senseless bravado.

"Yeah, but they don't know the case." Beck argued. "You send some trigger-happy tactical team in, you might as well sign Cat's death warrant. Jade and I understand Robbie. We know what drives him, and we know what makes him kill." Beck turned to Jade for support, who nodded in agreement. "We can talk him down, Captain. We can save Cat's life."

Tori sighed and thought it over for a moment. Was she really willing to risk the lives of not only her best detective, but also her technical analyst and an FBI Special Agent on the off chance that they _might _be able to understand what ran through the mind of a sociopathic serial killer?

"All right." Tori gave in. "You've got an hour. After that, I'm sending in every gun I've got."

Beck nodded in thanks, finishing getting suited up for the confrontation whilst Jade climbed into the boat. Tori suddenly remembered something.

"Beck! Take this flare gun. If we lose communication, and you need backup, fire it off. I'll have half the Coast Guard on that island in three minutes." Tori promised, thrusting the small but volatile weapon into the Detective's tanned hand. Beck looked it over… the flare gun was coloured red with a black handle.

"Thanks, Captain." Beck smiled reassuringly, tucking the flare gun into a holster on the back of his belt.

"You ready to go, Beck? Clock's ticking." Jade grabbed his attention.

Tori put her hand on Beck's shoulder.

"Beck…"

"Captain?" Beck asked.

"Get it done." Tori ordered. Beck nodded reassuringly. Confidently.

"You've got my word."

* * *

Cat came to on the roof of Cellblock A, tied to a chair. To one side, the building jutted out over the dark, rough ocean. Waves crashed violently against the cliff face of Alcatraz Island, propelled by powerful gusts of wind. It was weird how the ocean that, two days ago, Cat had admired the beauty of from the cold sands of East Beach could now look so vicious, so terrifying…

So tempting.

Robbie stood at the roof's edge, gazing out. He had already donned his signature mask and was readying a syringe.

"You look a lot like her, you know. Your hair, so bright and long… I never noticed it before… but somehow, I have a feeling that you'll be just right." Robbie told her sinisterly as she began to struggle in her chair.

_I'm starting to feel my hands… if I can keep Robbie talking, I should be able to get them free!_

"Robbie, please… you don't have to do this." Cat pleaded.

"My name's not Robbie." He said.

"I know. Your name's Brian." Cat replied. The man paused and gazed out over the ocean again.

"No one's called me that in a long time."

Cat continued to work her wrists. The bindings were rough, but she could feel them starting to loosen. She might still have a chance. She just had to keep this man talking.

"So what if you know my name? So what?" He continued.

"So names matter. Where you come from matters."

"And you're telling me you care?" The Maskmaker scoffed.

"Yes, I care… even now… I care about you. You're not just a monster, Robbie. I know you. I can see that." She professed, her voice catching at the name of the man she loved once. It seemed like such a long time ago, and yet…

No. This man in front of her wasn't Robbie. The Robbie she knew was bright and sweet; awkward and geeky. The serial killer stood in front of her wasn't Robbie. Not to her.

"What happened? What happened to make you this way?" Cat questioned him sadly.

"You really want to know?" He asked. Not getting a response, he continued anyway. "This is where it all began, and this is where it ends."

* * *

**August 8****th****, 1990. Alcatraz Island.**

The boy lingered a few steps behind his mother and sister, straining his neck to peer through the iron prison bars. He was silent as the grave. Up ahead, a tour guide stood before a small, grim cell.

"…And if you'll step this way, you'll see _The Hole_. Spending time inside this sensory deprivation chamber was rumoured to drive inmates insane. It was punishments like these that earned Alcatraz the nickname 'The Devil's Island'." The old, brunette woman explained to the tourists following her. She noticed and turned to the young boy. "So what do you think about The Hole, son? You wouldn't like to spend time down in that dark, awful place, would you?" She smiled. The boy's empty stare pierced into her for an extremely long moment, before he opened his mouth to speak.

"…That's where I belong."

"Where you… belong?" The tour guide frowned.

"That way nobody would have to look at me ever again." The boy muttered depressively.

"Oh, son. That's an awful thing to say. I'm sure there are lots of people who want to look at you. Like your mother and your sister there." The kind woman consoled him, gesturing between his two family members.

"If that's true, then why are they sending me away?" The boy scowled. Lies. All lies. Just one lie after another.

"Sending you away?" The tour guide questioned, looking up at the boy's mother.

"Brian, you've said quite enough, don't you think?" His mother spoke up with a warning undertone.

"I… uh, okay, folks." The tour guide interrupted uneasily. "How about we, uh, how about we move along to our next stop on the tour?"

* * *

"So that's why you hate your family? Because they locked you away?" Cat asked. Robbie turned away.

"For a time, I suppose I did resent them for that…" The masked man spoke up.

Cat continued to struggle with her wrists, feeling the bindings getting looser and looser by the second.

"…But in the end, I deserved it. I deserve everything terrible that ever happened to me." Robbie admitted, his voice quivering ever so slightly. "I'm not like you. I'm different. I'm sick. A _stain_."

"Why? What did you do?" Cat interrogated him, confused. Robbie exhaled deeply and stared down at the all-too-enticing ocean.

* * *

After the tour ended, the young boy and his sister walked along the island's beach at the water's edge.

"You shouldn't have said all that. Mom's going through enough. You should've kept your stupid mouth shut." The teenage girl scolded him.

"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do wrong." He apologized, refusing to lift his gaze from his wet and sandy shoes. Tears began welling in his eyes, a feeling he had grown all but accustomed to in the past few years.

"You don't have to _do _wrong. You _are _wrong." She scowled.

"Stop it… stop it…" The boy repeated, his voice rising each time he uttered the two words.

"You're a _stain_. You're disgusting, and I can't _wait_ until you're gone." His older sister spat the words out like venom. As she turned away, the young boy, without thinking, picked up a rock half the size of his hand from along the water's edge and hefted it at his sister's head.

"Shut up!" He yelled in anger. The rock bounced off her head with an audible thump. Blood trickled down the side of her face. She pitched forward, falling face down in the shallow surf. "_You're _disgusting! _You're _the stain!" He screamed at the top of his voice.

The boy leaped on top of his sister and pressed down on the back of her head, driving her face into the wet sand.

"_You're _the one that should go away! _You're_ the one who Mom should hate!" He howled in fury, tears streaming down his face. The girl beneath him gurgled weakly. Her arms twitched. Her hands clenched and then unclenched. Bloody water bubbled up around her head.

"I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!"

The sister trembled a final time… and then lay still. The boy's outrage stopped dead in its tracks, as quickly as it had begun.

"…Rebecca?"

He rolled his sister onto her back. Her dead, empty eyes stared blankly skyward.

Her face was covered in a mask of fine, white sand.

* * *

"That's… that's…" Cat stuttered, horrified and saddened by Robbie's story. Only… it wasn't just a _story_. It was Robbie's… no, _Brian's _life. "That's terrible." Cat trembled.

"Yes, it was terrible, the most terrible moment of my life…" The Maskmaker agreed with a nod. "…But it was also beautiful." He proclaimed, turning away.

Cat continued to work her wrists. The bindings were chafing her hands, but they were loosening, bit by bit…

"All anybody ever saw of my sister was what she wanted them to see. But when I saw her lying there on the beach, her face plastered over with white… I knew what I had done. I had taken away her darkness, her sickness… and I had exposed her true face." Robbie continued painfully.

"Robbie, you… you need help, but we, we can help you… you don't have to do this…" Cat struggled to get the words out in her ever-increasing panic. Time was running out.

Robbie looked at the redheaded woman. For one brief moment, his eyes seemed almost tender through the blank, white mask. For one brief moment, Cat could feel every bit of the pain Robbie had felt throughout his childhood… his whole life, through his eyes.

For one brief moment… Cat understood.

"Robbie… just let me go… I promise I can help you." She pleaded tenderly, her eyes tearing up.

Robbie hesitated…

And then there was a scuffing sound from the other side of the building. Robbie ran over and saw a small boat docking.

"You… you were trying to stall me!" Robbie yelled, hurt and betrayed.

"No, Robbie, I…" Cat attempted to defend herself in panic. She let out a small scream as she was interrupted by a hard, cold slap across the face.

"No! Not another filthy, lying word!" He shouted furiously. He turned away and drew his silenced pistol. "I'll go take care of our little friends… and then, I'll come back. And when I do, it'll be your turn." The Maskmaker promised, turning and heading towards the concrete steps.

He vanished down into the darkness.

* * *

**Next chapter... well, do I even need to say it? The long-awaited confrontation with the Maskmaker... you don't want to miss it.**

**Clarity23: Yep, you were definitely not wrong! In fact, I think you were the only reviewer that actually said they suspected Robbie (without having it spoiled for you).**

**HappyHyperbole (anonymous): And that right there is why I like people like you. Even though you could have gotten so much attention from it, you respected the story and the people who were new to it enough to not spoil it. Thank you for that and thanks for the support! :)**

**osnapitzbanana (anonymous): Nope, I've actually never heard of a show called 'Flashpoint' before... but it's pretty crazy how much of a coincidence that is!**

**karlaserna: Is the story coming to an end...? I guess we'll find out soon enough. ;)**


	11. Stain

**100 reviews in just ten chapters?! You guys are amazing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck docked the boat along the dark, rocky pier of Alcatraz Island. He and Jade quietly hopped out onto the dock.

"Okay, we don't have a lot of time here, so we have to move fast." Beck said.

"But we should be careful… Robbie's had years to prepare for this moment. We should expect the unexpected." Jade reminded the Detective. "Now… the island's too big to fully search on foot… but if we go to the security office, we might be able to use their equipment." Jade planned.

"Let's roll." Beck nodded, following Jade towards the cellblocks.

Within a minute, he and Jade had cautiously and quietly passed through Cellblock A and into the security office. The room was eerily empty. The radio receiver lay broken on the floor.

"Guess this explains why the Captain couldn't reach anyone on the radio." Beck realized.

"Any sign of the guards?" Jade asked, examining the room.

"Not yet, but I'll take a look around." Beck said.

"Okay, well while you do that, I'll try to find Robbie on this security system." Jade decided. Beck nodded and ventured deeper into the security office by himself. Meanwhile, Jade approached a large bank of monitors.

_Alright, we've got video feeds of the docks, the roof, and the cellblock._

Cycling through the different camera feeds, Jade quickly came across a live feed of the roof. She immediately saw Cat tied down to a metal chair. She was struggling to free her wrists from the restraints.

"Beck, get over here!" Jade called over to Beck, who had wandered over into the darkness on the other side of the office. "I found Cat! She's on…"

"Jade! Don't move!" Beck yelled back to her, and in that instant, a cold shiver ran down Jade's spine as she froze in place. Beck rushed up and pointed to a thin tripwire at Jade's feet… leading to a claymore tucked under the desk.

"Is that what I think it is?" Jade asked, breathing deeply.

"Yeah. The second you step off that wire… well, don't step off that wire, basically." Beck urged.

"Can you disarm it?" Jade asked impatiently. Beck sighed.

"I'm not sure. I could try cutting the trip wire, but if I slip up…" Beck trailed off, frowning and shaking his head.

"Great." Jade remarked.

"There _is _another option. Claymores are directional, and I doubt that thing packs too much of a punch. I could try to tackle you out of the way." Beck suggested, earning him a sceptical look.

"That's the other option?"

"I didn't say it was a good option." The Detective frowned. "Look, you're the one in the blast radius. You need to make the call."

"Okay, okay. Do it. Tackle me." Jade decided, taking in a deep breath.

Beck took a few steps back, preparing a run up.

"Okay, here goes nothing. We're going to do this on the count of three." Beck told her uncertainly. "One… two…" Beck and Jade both took in a deep breath. "_Three!_"

Beck tackled Jade aside with all his might. Behind them, the exploding claymore completely decimated the bank of security monitors Jade had been stood in front of not thirty seconds earlier. Jade could feel the heat from the explosion brush across her face. The blast hurled the two of them out of the security office door and into the cellblock. A thick cloud of dust billowed around them. Jade coughed, staggering to her feet and dusting off her dark suit.

"Whoa, that was close… Beck? Beck?" Jade looked around for him in a sudden fleeting moment of panic, quickly noticing him lying next to her on the floor, moaning faintly. She turned him over and immediately noticed the long, bloody gash on the side of his head.

_He's out cold. He must've hit his head on the floor when he knocked me out of the way._

Jade looked up at the cellblock around her.

_This cellblock leads right to the roof. Robbie has to be nearby. _

Deciding to take on a sneaky, quiet approach, Jade slinked along the cellblock wall, keeping to the shadows. And that's when she noticed a metallic glinting. For one brief moment, she couldn't realize what she was looking at… then she realized it was the glossy finish of a silenced pistol.

Robbie was crouched along a wall, totally oblivious to Jade.

_Got you now._

Jade cautiously stepped up behind him and jabbed her pistol to the back of his head.

"Not one move! Now drop your weapon!" Jade ordered.

Fast. Impossibly fast. Robbie whipped around and batted Jade's pistol violently from her hand. Jade staggered back as Robbie raised his gun to shoot her, but Jade swiftly kicked it away. The two squared off, slowly circling each other… when a long, sharp scalpel slid out of Robbie's sleeve and into his hand.

"Uh oh…" Was all Jade could say before Robbie dived forward, slicing at her. Thinking fast, Jade ducked low to the side. The scalpel whizzed safely over her head. Before Robbie could attack again, Jade viciously kicked his feet out from beneath him. He dropped to the floor, shouting in pain.

Jade dived forward, but Robbie rolled out of the way, kicking up from the ground and landing perfectly on his feet.

_God… he's good!_

Jade threw two fast punches at Robbie, both of which he weaved out of the way of, then he jumped forward and tackled Jade to the ground.

"Ufff!" Jade moaned from the sudden force to her back. Robbie wrapped his fingers around Jade's throat, quickly squeezing. Before Jade knew it, her vision was starting to blur. Her lungs burning for air, Jade placed her palms on Robbie's chest and pushed, only causing Robbie to grunt and squeeze harder. Jade pushed harder, feeling Robbie start to give way. Summoning all of the strength she had left in her battered body, Jade pushed with all her might. Her hand found Robbie's chin, shoving his neck roughly backward.

"Hkkk!" Robbie hissed, rearing back. He lifted his arm to swing a punch at the FBI Agent, who was still on her knees, clutching at her throat catching her breath, when a voice rung out from behind him.

"Hey, Rob!"

Jade looked over to see Beck standing against the doorway of the cellblock. He whipped up his gun and fired, grazing Robbie's shoulder and eliciting another yell of pain from the killer.

"Arrrgh!" He cried, throwing himself off Jade and racing up the stairs to the rooftop. Beck's bullets harmlessly pinged off the stairway railing.

"Argh!" Beck groaned in frustration, placing his pistol firmly back in it's hoister and rushing over, kneeling beside Jade. "You alright?" He checked.

"Yeah, I think so…" Jade eyed the stairs Robbie had just fled up. "That staircase leads to the rood. That's where Robbie's keeping Cat." Jade informed Beck, looking him over. "You okay?" Jade asked back.

"You mean _aside _from almost getting blown up? Yeah, I'm just peachy." Beck remarked sarcastically, whipping out his gun again and chambering a round into it. He turned to the stairwell with a newfound sense of determination and confidence. "Let's finish this."

Guns drawn, Beck and Jade made their way up the stairwell…

And found themselves on the rooftop of the cellblock. The cellblock was built into the cliff face, it's far edge jutting out over the water. Waves crashed and banged ferociously against the cliff face. Thunder boomed in the distant night sky. Robbie stood with his back to the water. Cat sat tied up in a chair in front of him.

Beck and Jade immediately pointed their guns at Robbie, but he ducked behind Cat, gently pressing a syringe into her neck.

"H… help me…" Cat pleaded, a single tear dripping down her face.

"Put down the syringe, Robbie! Now!" Jade ordered.

"I don't think I'll be doing that, Agent West! All I have to do is press this plunger, and Cat gets a fatal dose of succinylcholine." Robbie informed them. Jade's face tightened as she attempted to get a clear shot. No such luck. Jade glanced at Beck, who shook his head in response. No such luck. "Put down your guns, _now_!" Robbie shouted.

Realizing there was no other alternative, Jade let her weapon, her only form of defence slip from her hand.

"Okay. We can talk this out, Robbie… just don't hurt her." Jade insisted, her gun clattering against the cold, concrete roof below them.

"Now you, Detective!" Robbie turned to Beck. Beck hesitated, glaring daggers. Robbie jammed the syringe deeper into Cat's neck, causing a thin trail of blood to trickle down.

"Ungh… Beck…" Cat cried faintly.

"You sick freak…" Beck cursed under his breath, dropping his gun to the ground.

"Now kick them over the cliff." Robbie commanded, not moving the syringe from the side of Cat's neck.

Jade glanced at Beck. The two of them both knew what had to happen. If they didn't kick their guns over the cliff, Robbie would kill Cat. But if they did, they themselves would be defenceless.

It wasn't even a choice.

Beck and Jade grudgingly kicked their guns over the edge.

"Put down the syringe, Robbie. We can talk this through." Beck persisted.

"Actually, Detective… we can't." The masked man replied. With his spare hand, Robbie pulled out a concealed pistol and fired a single bullet…

Striking Beck directly in the chest. Beck fell to the ground with a startled gasp. He reached to the hole in his shirt… and pulled away a hand soaked in blood.

"Beck! _No_!" Jade cried in horror, taking all of her willpower not to run to her downed partner. Jade knew that if she did that, she would get herself killed, and then there would be no one to save Cat. No. She had to be strong. Special Agent Jade West was a lot of things, but weak wasn't one of them.

"Sorry Agent West… but at this range, body armor just won't cut it." The Maskmaker sighed. Jade cautiously stepped towards him, only to back down instantly as he started to depress the plunger, releasing the first few drops of succinylcholine into Cat's neck. "Truth is, I have absolutely no use for a macho idiot like him." He admitted.

"And what about me? You have a use for me?" Jade asked with a sceptical look.

"As a matter of fact, I do. You're not my type, not at all… but I think I'll enjoy killing you all the same." Robbie answered.

"You mean like you enjoyed killing Rebecca?" Jade asked.

Robbie froze, staring through the mask with cold, furious eyes directly at the Special Agent stood confidently before him.

"…What did you just say?" Robbie asked in angered disbelief.

"You heard me." Jade scowled. "We know all about your sister, Rebecca. We know all about what you did to her."

"…What I… did to her? What _I _did to _her?!_" Robbie yelled in fury. "You don't know anything!"

On the ground beside Jade, Beck coughed a fine mist of blood. With one trembling hand, he fumbled for something in his waistband…

"You killed your own sister, Robbie. And you liked it. And all those other girls, well… you were just trying to recapture that thrill." Jade analysed.

"Spare me." Robbie scoffed. "You don't understand me. You'll never understand me."

"You'd be surprised at what I understand, Robbie." Jade claimed coldly.

"Now get down on your knees!" Robbie ordered unconvincingly.

"Is this getting you off? I bet it is, you freak…" Jade continued.

"Hey. _Hey! _I'm not a freak! I'm an artist! I'm a… I _helped _those girls! I gave them their true faces!" Robbie defended himself weakly.

"Oh, I'm sure you tell yourself that… but you're just a deviant! A sick, disgusting, little _stain!_" Jade yelled cruelly.

Robbie's hand trembled, his breath coming fast and ragged.

"You shut your mouth! Just shut your disgusting mouth! You don't know me!" Robbie screamed in blind fury, hitting himself in the temple with the butt of his gun. His hand holding the syringe to Cat's neck trembled. "Shut up! Just _shut up!_"

On the ground, Beck coughed again as he struggled to pull something out of his pocket… something red… with a black handle.

"Get…" Robbie's voice caught. "Get on your knees and turn around. I don't need you looking at me." He ordered. Jade hesitated. "Now!" He yelled furiously, causing Jade to slowly kneel down. Robbie started to depress the plunger further…

"Jade…" Cat faintly squeaked, her skin white pale, her face stained with tears.

"One last thing, Robbie. It's about your sister." Jade spoke up once more, demanding Robbie's attention. "She was perfect."

"P… p… perfect…?" Robbie stuttered in total bewilderment.

"Oh yeah. Perfect. Great student, great athlete, and so, so beautiful…" Jade listed. "I've seen pictures, you know. Real ones. Not the ones you destroyed. It's just too bad Rebecca had that miserable stain of a baby brother." She sighed, her voice rising.

"You… you don't know… you don't know _anything!_" Robbie said between breathes, slamming the butt of his pistol into his temple once, twice, three times.

"She never did a bad thing in her life! But you on the other hand… you were _always _a freak!" Jade continued.

"Shut up! Shut up! _Shut up!_" Robbie roared in anger and confusion.

"Freak!"

"Aaaaaarrrgh!" Robbie screamed and lunged towards Jade, knocking Cat aside. Cat hit the ground and freed herself from the ropes binding her. She began to slowly drag herself forward.

"Jade!" Beck shouted, grabbing her attention for only a split second, but just long enough for Jade to _understand_. Beck had finally pulled the object out of his waistband… the flare gun that Captain Vega gave to him. With the last of his strength, he slid the gun towards Jade.

Diving forward in a roll, Jade grabbed the flare gun and pulled herself up to one knee.

Robbie rose his gun at her, his eyes opened wide in horror.

There was no other option.

Jade pulled the trigger.

With a loud whoosh, the bright orange flare streaked through the open air…

"_NO!_" Robbie screamed just milliseconds before the flare impacted his chest, exploding with a deafening roar. Robbie flew back and slammed into the concrete railing. Flames engulfed his clothes, and the plaster of his mask melted into the skin of his face. He touched the massive, burned indentation in his chest with one hand… moaned weakly…

And then he toppled over the railing into the churning water below.

For one brief moment, he floated on the surface of the water, dead, empty eyes gazing skyward through the mask's eyeholes… and then he sunk into cool, black oblivion.

Jade let out a huge sigh, pulling herself to her feet.

"Cat! Cat! Are you okay?" Jade asked worriedly.

"I'm f… I'm fine… but… but Beck…" Cat worried faintly. Jade ran across the rooftop to where Beck was lying on his back. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood. Jade frantically applied pressure to the wound like she had always been trained to do.

"Beck. Beck, you there? Stay with me." Jade reassured him, tears welling up in her eyes. Beck struggled, but managed to crack a small smile.

"Got… him…" He whispered, his eyes drawing to a close. Cat let out a horrified gasp, placing one hand over her mouth in shock and letting the tears flow once again.

"No no no, don't shut your eyes, stay with me, okay? Stay with me! Beck! _Beck!_" Jade cried, a single tear escaping from her left eye and dripping slowly down her cheek.

* * *

**Three days later…**

Slowly, Beck opened his eyes. He was lying in a stiff bed in a bright, white hospital room. Jade was sat on a chair in the corner of the room, looking extremely tired.

"Hey there," She greeted him. "Glad to see you're awake. You had us worried for a minute there." She told him. Beck reached up sluggishly and touched the thick, white bandages wrapped around the left side of his chest. "The body armor softened the blow, so the shot didn't go deep… bruised the hell out of your lung, though." Jade explained. "All in all, the doctor says you were really lucky."

"My mother did always say it's better to be lucky than smart…" Beck smiled.

"Well, you should be back on your feet in a few weeks." Jade told him.

"And Cat?"

"She's fine. Rattled… but she's fine."

Beck paused for a minute, a look of anger forming on his face.

"…Robbie?" He asked.

"Dead." Jade announced, almost seeming to feel… pride, in saying it. "The flare fused his mask to his face and knocked him into the ocean. Cause of death? Drowning. Kind of poetic, huh?" Jade chuckled.

"Something like that. You still in trouble with your District Chief?" Beck checked.

"You kidding? I'm his star agent." Jade smiled. Beck slowly attempted to ease himself up, but the pain throbbing from his side was just overpowering.

"How long have I been out?" He asked, easing himself back down.

"Three days. It turns out you say some pretty funny things when you're doped up." Jade chuckled. "For one thing, you referred to André as 'The Great Androni'." She laughed.

"And I'm sure he's never going to let me live _that _down." Beck sighed, suddenly realizing something. "Wait… three days? Does that mean you stuck around here just for me?" Beck asked, smiling again. "I'm sure the Bureau needs you on another case…"

"Actually… I'm still working on this one." Jade informed him with a sigh. Beck's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What are you talking about? Robbie's dead. The case is closed."

"That's what I thought at first." Jade frowned. "But then…" She cleared her throat. "Robbie Shapiro, aka Brian Resler, was institutionalized at age 12, and released at the age of 24. And that's all the documentation we have on him." Jade recited. Beck slowly nodded, ushering her to continue. "But how did someone with a record like that end up on the SFPD? How could he have possibly passed the background check?" The agent questioned.

"It's not just a fake name… it's a whole fake identity." Beck said anxiously.

"The more I think about it, the more it just doesn't add up. Where did he get his forensics training? And how did he afford that 3 million dollar house in Pacific Heights?" She continued. Beck tensed up at the worrying thought that entered his mind.

"Robbie had an accomplice..." Beck whispered, as though the accomplice was in the room with them waiting to strike.

"No. Not an accomplice. A patron. A benefactor. Someone who financed him… trained him… cultivated his madness, then set him loose." Jade corrected the Detective.

"Why the hell would anyone do a thing like that?" Beck questioned angrily. Jade leaned over and squeezed his hand.

"That's what you and I are going to find out." Jade promised, just as the door to the room swung open, and Cat walked in.

"Cat! God, am I glad to see you." Beck sighed thankfully.

"Beck, I… I… I'm just so…" Cat began to apologize.

"Shh, Cat. It's okay." He consoled the rattled woman. Cat ran over and gave Beck a big hug, tears welling in her eyes once again. Beck winced in pain. "Ow, ow! Careful with the shoulder!"

Cat shot up off of him in panic.

"Sorry, sorry!" She worried.

"Don't be mean, Beck. She's just so happy that you're back." Jade teased.

"Yeah, well… I guess I'm glad to be back too." Beck replied, easing back in his bed. "It's good to be back." Beck repeated, turning his head and looking out of the hospital window. A heavy blanket of fog hung over the city, but a few rays of sunlight shone through over the city of San Francisco.

* * *

**A week later…**

At McGinty's Irish Pub in the Mission District, Beck, André and Diego sat around a dirty, wooden table, playing cards.

"I raise twenty." Diego said.

"Twenty? What is this, my grandma's sewing circle? Raise forty." André smiled deviously.

"Big talk, big talk." Beck teased. "Call." He said, sliding some chips across the table the match André's play and wincing from the sudden pang of pain in his chest.

"Still hurt, huh? My brother got shot ten years ago, and he still walks with a limp." Diego frowned. "I call."

Beck nodded and began to deal out the flop cards.

"How do you two know each other again?" André asked, confused.

"Diego was a C.I., he helped me out with a couple of gang-related murders. His mother makes some incredible carnitas…" Beck chuckled.

"Yeah, well, you can come by to have some any time you want. She won't shut up about you stopping the Maskmaker and all. Says she can sleep easy at night now." The heavily-tattooed man offered.

"No offense to your mother, Diego, but heavy-set, middle-aged women in hairnets weren't exactly his type…" Beck said.

"Ha!" André laughed.

"Why you gotta go there, man? That's not cool." Diego frowned. "Just for that, I'm raising a hundred. Yeah. You heard me."

"Too rich for my blood. I'm out." André announced, lowering his cards to the table. Beck shook his head in disappointment.

"That's your mistake, André. Diego is an irredeemable bluffer. I call." Beck mirrored his opponent's actions confidently.

"Sandra okay with you spending her money like that?" André joked. Beck looked down and thought for a moment.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to tell you… Sandra left me." Beck confessed to his friend. André raised his eyebrows as though it was the last thing in the world he had ever expected.

"Are you… are you serious?" He frowned.

"As a heart attack." Beck confirmed.

"Man, I…I don't even know what to say. That's rough." André sympathized with Beck.

"Don't worry about it." Beck shrugged it off. "I think… I think I'm starting to be okay with it. Hell, just telling you about it makes me feel better." He admitted with a fulfilled sigh.

"Listen, man, I know some girls that like to party, if you know what I'm saying." Diego suggested. "You want me to give you some numbers?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could ask out your mom…" Beck commented dryly.

"Okay, seriously man, that's messed up!" Diego scowled. "You're sick! Sick in the head!" He exclaimed as Beck and André laughed away like always.

* * *

In a nice San Francisco restaurant, Cat was sat with Captain Vega. Cat's attention was drawn to the natural beauty of the ocean from through the window.

"Thanks for taking me out to lunch, Captain. I really appreciate it. I can't believe I've been living in San Francisco for three years, and I've never had a sourdough bread bowl!" Cat smiled.

"It was my pleasure, Cat. If there's anything else I can do for you…" Tori began.

"You can get me out of those psychiatric sessions." Cat frowned.

"You know those are mandatory for anyone on the force who goes through a trauma… and after what Robbie did to you…" Tori explained.

"I'm fine. Really." Cat insisted. Tori leaned over and took her hand.

"Cat, if… if you'd like to take any time off…" Tori began to offer, her voice laced with concern. For one brief moment, Cat's eyes darted to Alcatraz Island, floating so peacefully on the horizon… and then she looked away.

"I told you, Captain. I'm fine. I just want to get back to work, okay?" Cat persisted.

* * *

On a San Francisco street, Jade was talking on the phone.

"Thank you, sir. That's good to hear." She replied politely.

"I mean it, Special Agent West. Everyone at the District office is incredibly impressed." District Chief Blaire smiled. "IDing the Maskmaker… saving that technician… that was incredible work." He praised the woman.

"Thank you, sir." Jade said, a huge, proud smile forming on her face,

"Now then, about this other theory of yours. That he had a… wealthy patron?" Blaire checked.

"I know it's unorthodox… maybe even unheard of…" Jade began to defend herself.

"I agree that there's something incredibly fishy about Robbie's post-institute life… but what you're proposing is, well, more than a little hard to swallow." Blaire told her.

"I know, sir. But I'm confident that I'm right." Jade stood by her theory.

"I'll give you this much, Special Agent: you don't sit still long. You've just saved your career, and you're ready to jeopardize it all over again."

"Just a little time. That's all I need." Jade promised.

"You've brought yourself that." Blaire nodded. "Good hunting, Special Agent West."

"Thank you, sir." Jade replied, letting out a sigh of relief. She hung up the phone, smiling to herself proudly. She turned and walked into a small storefront behind her.

"Special Agent West!" Lance Boggs greeted the black-haired woman in surprise. "What… what are you doing here? If this is about those antiquities, I swear, I can provide documentation for all of them…"

"Actually, Lance… I was hoping to do a little shopping." Jade interrupted. "See, I might be in the area for a little longer than I thought… and I think my hotel room could really use some stylish décor."

* * *

A few miles out of San Francisco, a large funeral was taking place. Two men, one young and fit, the other older and lean, stood to one side.

"I got their names and addresses for you."

"Thank you, _mijo_."

"That's it? All you got? Those two pigs murdered Miguel Flores… my brother… your son… and all I get is a thank you?" Carlito Flores questioned. "Let me go after them. I can do this, you know I can…"

Esteban Flores wrapped his hand around Carlito's head and pulled him close.

"Listen to me, boy. Listen to me. You are brash and impulsive and full of anger. I know that. I love that. But you have to leave this one to me. You let me handle it, you understand?" Esteban ordered his son. "Those two will pay for what they did. And they'll pay in blood ten thousand times what they spilled. You understand?"

"…Yeah."

"Good. Now go." Esteban said with a 'shoo' hand gesture. "Be with your mother. Grieve for your brother. Tomorrow, we will talk revenge."

* * *

The first thing she felt when she woke up was the hard, concrete floor. The room was dark, pitch-black. She couldn't see a thing in front of her. But she could feel her hands bound together.

"Where… where am I? What happened?" The dark haired woman asked to anyone who might be listening. Distantly, she could hear two voices talking. She scrambled to her feet and fumbled around in the darkness… until she found a door handle. "Please be open… _please _be open…" She whispered to herself in terror. She jerked the handle and it opened immediately. She fell through onto a marble floor. White light flooded her eyes. The woman blinked it away, still struggling to process what had actually just happened when she examined the room around her. "Oh god. Oh my god." She exclaimed in horror.

She was in some kind of trophy room. Various display cases were set up around her. One housed a female mask made out of plaster. Another had several human teeth. Another had…

"Are… are those scalps?" The woman questioned herself, horrified and yet... strangely fascinated. Suddenly, she could feel two sharp prongs stab into her back. She heard the buzz of a taser as a hot, electric jolt burned through her body. She spasmed and hit the ground hard, the coppery taste of blood flooding her mouth.

A tall, hefty man strolled over to her. She could just barely make out his graying hair and the long burn mark on the side of his face.

"Well, well. It appears the dosage wasn't quite right. I suppose that _was _always Robbie's forte." The man muttered to himself. He turned the woman over. She could smell rubbing alcohol… stale tobacco… "You are quite pretty, aren't you? Quite, quite pretty." He smiled sinisterly. From somewhere far away, she could hear a voice…

"Is everything under control?" The voice called into the room.

"Yes, yes it is." The man answered with a firm nod. He reached into his jacket and took out a long, rusty blade. With steady hands, he pressed it under the woman's eye. "Now then. Tell me about your sister." He demanded.

"My… my sister…?" The woman asked in confusion.

"Tell me about Jade West."

* * *

**Yep, that's right guys, the Maskmaker might be out for the count, but this ****story is **_**not **_**over yet! Not by a long shot!**

**karlaserna: Thank you so much for all the kind words! And also a huge thank you for being (I think) the only person to have reviewed every single chapter so far!**

**Clarity23: I'm actually really surprised with myself that I'm still updating so frequently.**

**Sylkia Whacamolia: I'm very tempted to rewrite this chapter now and make Robbie be Slenderman instead of Brian.**


	12. Tough Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**11:45 pm, Golden Gate Park**

Emile Schulleman staggered drunkenly through the park with a giggling, blonde woman holding his hand. Emile's short, brown hair had been ruffled into a mess.

"Hee hee, slow down, slow down! I'm wearing pumps!" Sandi Demme giggled.

"Screw them! I'll buy you some new ones tomorrow!" Emile promised, gesturing to himself proudly.

"One big win at the racetrack and suddenly you're my personal Santa…" Sandi teased, her long, blonde hair blowing in her face. She brushed it aside with one hand.

"Oh really? Because I didn't know Santa liked to do… this!" Emile pressed Sandi against a tree, his lips meeting hers frantically. Before he even realized what he was doing, Sandi's hands were fumbling with his belt buckle. Emile tried to pull away, but Sandi's grip on his belt buckle prevented him from doing so.

"Mmmm, you are kinky…" She whispered seductively.

"Slow down, honey, we're in public…" Emile whispered back, looking over his shoulder subconsciously.

"I don't care where we are… I want you." Sandi smiled.

"And I _don't _want to get slapped with a public indecency charge… come on, baby, my apartment is two blocks away. I promise I'll tear your clothes off the second we walk in."

"Well… okay." Sandi sighed, her phone suddenly buzzing in her pocket.

"Aw, come one! You're killing me!" Emile joked with a slight frown.

"Shoot, I gotta take this, just gimme one second. You wait here…" Sandi said, turning away with a flirtatious wink. She walked off towards the path, while Emile leaned against a tree and waited for her to get back.

He waited… and waited… and waited.

_Geez, she's been gone forever!_

Emile continued to wait politely. After a bored moment, he took out his cell phone and checked some sports scores.

"Ugh." Emile scoffed. "Can't believe the damn Niners lost _again_…" He complained to himself.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound from the bushes nearby, making the short man jump in fright. A lean, wiry man walked out and headed right towards him in intimidating silence.

"Hey… hey, look, I don't want any trouble…" Emile panicked, desperately clutching at the tree behind him as though it'd make the tree move out of his way. The man took another step… and that's when Emile saw the tire iron in his hand. Not wanting to spend another moment facing up to this mysterious man, Emile turned tail and sprinted through the bushes. The man rushed after him, hot on his heels. Emile could hear his pursuer's footsteps thundering after him, and his frantic breathing. "Oh my god… oh my god… Help! Please!" Emile cried desperately for someone to save him. "Someone help me! Sandi! Call the police!" He shouted into the clear night sky.

Emile gasped for air… and that's when he felt the tire iron smashing into the small of his back. Emile let out a small shout as a blisteringly sharp pain flared through his spine. He crumbled to his knees. His attacked walked around so he was facing him.

"P… please…" Emile pleaded, trembling in terror and pain.

The man winded up and smashed the tire iron across Emile's face. Emile's vision went red and black as he tasted thick, coppery blood flooding his mouth. Several chipped, blood-covered teeth spilled out of his mouth into the dirt. The man hit him once again in the side, and Emile heard his ribs pop with a piercing snap. With his last reserve of strength, Emile pulled himself forward and looked up at the man…

And then his boot came smashing down.

* * *

Two weeks after the incident on Alcatraz Island, Detective Beck Oliver walked up the busy San Francisco street to the SFPD station. André strolled up alongside him.

"First you get suspended, then you need two weeks off to recover? Makes me wonder if you even want to be a cop." André joked.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's see how funny you are after you've taken a bullet to the lung." Beck replied with a joking smile. He stepped forward and pushed the station doors open. All of the officers in the bullpen looked up as Beck entered. There was an awkward moment of silence… and then they all broke out into applause.

"Look at you. Regular hero." André remarked.

"Thanks, guys, thanks… but I was just doing my job. You all would've done the same thing." Beck shrugged the applause off.

"I might've avoided getting shot!" Officer Phil Morris laughed.

Beck shook a few hands on the way to his office, where Jade was waiting. She greeted him with a warm pat on the back.

"Good to see you here, Jade. I take it you convinced your Chief to let you investigate Robbie's benefactor?" Beck assumed.

"Yeah, I've been given a month to wrap up any loose ends in the investigation. For once, District Chief Blaire was actually quite generous." Jade chuckled.

"Maybe he's just happy to have you off his back." Beck teased.

"Ha ha." Jade replied dryly. "How about you? Did you enjoy your two weeks off?" She asked. Beck shrugged.

"I'm just ready to get back to work. Screw vacation. All I could think about was figuring out who the hell Robbie's benefactor was." He admitted.

"That's good to hear, because I spent that time researching Robbie's past." Jade told him while he settled down at his desk.

"So what've you got?"

"Incredibly little." Jade sighed frustratedly. "I've spent the last two weeks getting stonewalled at every possible turn. The mental institute where Robbie stayed won't disclose his records, the financial records on his house are a maze of fake names and shell bank accounts, and I can't even get access to his hiring records here at the SFPD!" She complained.

"Captain Vega can't help you with that?" Beck questioned, gesturing towards Tori, who was on the other side of the room discussing something with another officer.

"She was told they'd been lost. A mix-up in the file room." Jade informed him.

"Gotta' love police bureaucracy…" Beck muttered.

"I suppose, but… this doesn't feel like your regular bureaucratic mess, Beck." Jade replied sceptically. "Too many lost records, too many clerical mix-ups…"

"You think someone's covering Robbie's trail?" Beck realized.

"That's how it feels." Jade confirmed. A small smile grew on Beck's face.

"Sounds like you've got a _hunch_…" Beck teased.

"Don't start that again." Jade deflected the joke as Captain Vega walked over to Beck's desk.

"Detective." She greeted him. "It's good to see you again."

"Good to be back, Captain." Beck smiled.

"I've got a case for you. Body found in Golden Gate Park…" Tori began.

"Tell me about it." Beck requested. "What kind of homicide are we dealing with today?"

"Middle-aged man found floating in a pond. It looks like he…"

"Captain Vega?" Jade interrupted. "I was actually hoping Detective Oliver could assist me with my investigation into the possibility that Robbie had an accomplice…" She told the woman. Tori let out a heavy sigh.

"Ah, right. I was wondering when I'd have to deal with this. Listen to me very closely, Special Agent West. The FBI has requested that I accommodate your investigation into the possibility that Robbie wasn't working alone. I've let you use my station as your base of operations, and I've given you access to our archives and databases." Tori explained. Jade nodded in agreement. "However, I am under no obligation to provide you with any additional resources… and that includes Detective Oliver!" Tori sternly informed the agent.

"With all due respect, Captain, if Robbie had a patron, this could be really serious…" Jade argued with a frown.

"I reviewed your report closely, Special Agent West. And I have to tell you that I am in no way convinced." Tori admitted. "Yes, I agree, there _are _some major inconsistencies in Robbie Shapiro's paperwork… but that doesn't mean he had some mysterious accomplice!"

"Captain, I will say, I think there's enough evidence to at least open an inquiry…" Beck spoke up against his superior. Tori raised her eyebrows, intrigued.

"Oh? And _what _evidence might that be, Detective?"

"Well, for one thing, how did Robbie manage to get past our background check?" Beck pointed out. Tori's shoulder's dropped.

"I… okay, admittedly, I'm a little anxious about that myself." She admitted.

"I'm telling you, Captain. It doesn't add up." The Detective insisted.

"It is a compelling question… but that's all it is. A question. Not a lead, not a suspect, not even a crime." Tori explained, before turning back to Jade. "Listen here, Special Agent. My station was volunteered to serve as your base, and I believe I've been quite generous in my support. But Beck is one of my best Detectives, and I need him working on real cases, not following you on what may well be a wild goose chase." She told the agent, her mind already made up.

"I understand." Jade gave in with a sigh of disappointment. "Well, in that case, I'd like to accompany Detective Oliver. I think my skills as a profiler could really assist in his investigation." She offered.

"Are you attempting to negotiate with me, Special Agent? Hoping for a quid pro quo?" Tori asked.

"And if I was?" Jade left the question open.

"Hmmm… far be it from me to refuse your help, Special Agent. Just don't get in the way." Tori ordered. "Beck, the body's in Golden Gate Park. This report should fill you in." She told him, leaving a folder on his desk and walking off.

"Well… Golden Gate Park it is!" Beck smiled.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck and Jade drove down a windy San Francisco street in Beck's car.

"So, I'm as big a fan of 'Take Your Fed To Work Day' as the next guy, but do you really want to spend your time helping with a routine homicide?" Beck interrogated his passenger curiously.

"Well, for one, I actually do think I'll be able to help you out… and I'm sure I'll be able to buy myself a little good will with your Captain." Jade explained.

"Clearly, you have a lot to learn about Captain Vega…" Beck smiled. Jade opened her mouth to reply when her phone rang. She took it out of her pocket and answered the call.

"What? No, don't… just calm down. You know how she is. Remember when she turned 18 and she disappeared for two weeks, and then it turned out she was partying in Cancun?" She comforted whoever was on the other line. "Yes, I know, I'll… I understand, Mom. Okay. I'll call her tonight. Yes. Bye." Jade hung up the phone angrily.

"Trouble at home?" Beck asked in a concerned tone.

"No, not really." Jade sighed. "My mother hasn't heard from my sister in a few days, and she's panicking. Such a typical over-reacting parent… I mean, it's not like my sister makes her case any better. The girl is completely out of control! The only time she's not partying, she's sleeping off a hangover." She continued to complain to Beck, who was listening to every word.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Beck assured her.

"I know she will. For all her wild-child ways, she's a smart and capable girl." Jade nodded.

"She's gotta be. She's _your _sister." Beck flashed a smile. "I can just picture her at the club. 'Ah, you're drinking a screwdriver? A clear sign of a latent narcissistic disorder…'" Beck joked. Jade let out an amused laugh.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

Beck and Jade strolled into Golden Gate Park. While Beck was indifferent to the landmark around them, Jade was almost preoccupied taking in the calmness of the enormous, green landscape that seemed completely out of place with the usual noise and business of San Francisco.

A small section of the park had been roped off with caution tape, and was surrounded by over-eager locals trying to get a glimpse of what crime had taken place in their beloved park. Pushing past them, Beck and Jade crouched under the tape and walked over to a small, dirty pond. The body was lying next to it, its bloated imprint visible through the soaked white sheet covering it.

"Ugh." Jade scrunched up her face in disgust.

"Okay, according to the report, a jogger found him this morning, floating face-down in the pond. Fingerprints ID him as Emile Schulleman, a printer salesman with a history of public drunkenness. His wallet's gone, and so are his class ring, his cell phone, and his loafers. Whoever did this picked him bare." Beck observed.

"Sounds like you think it was a robbery." Jade said.

"This isn't some cryptic serial killer with a baffling psychology. In Homicide, if it looks like a robbery, it's probably a robbery." Beck explained with an indifferent shrug.

"Hey, you're the expert. I'll follow your lead." Jade assured him, raising her hands to show she meant no harm. Beck walked over to the body and lifted up the soggy, dirty sheet covering it. The stench of rotting flesh immediately wafted out.

"Oof! This one's messy. Real messy." Beck repeated to himself.

"You sound delighted." Jade surveyed.

"Why shouldn't I be? Messy's good. Messy means mistakes. And mistakes mean easy cases." He told the agent, who nodded and walked over to his side to examine the body. "Well, he's been savagely beaten. Hit once here across the face." Beck pointed out with his hand. "Looks like again in the ribs and back. Crowbar, maybe?"

"Something like that. And look at the imprints on the face. Those little indentations in his cheek? That's from a boot." Jade added.

"This _was _sloppy. Savage. Drawn out." Beck scrutinized.

"The beating suggests that, sure, but… look at this." Jade said, angling the head of the body back and revealing a long, ugly cut across the man's throat. "The killer slit this man's throat with one clean slash. That's cold and quick." She argued.

"Hmm… this crime was professional." Beck declared after a long moment of deep thought.

"You seem pretty confident." Jade observed.

"Think about it. The killer didn't just take Emile's wallet… he took his phone, his ring, and even his nice shoes. The beating seems savage, but the slit throat is what killed him." Beck analysed.

"And what if it was the beating that killed him? What if the slit throat is just to throw off our investigation?" Jade opposed the Detective's theory.

"That's a neat theory, but it's not what happened here." Someone said from behind the two. Beck and Jade both turned to see a long-haired, dark-skinned man wearing an oddly bright blue, flamboyant shirt and a pair of thin-framed, silver glasses.

"Who are you?" Beck asked the man.

"Kai Kalaba. I'm your new forensic specialist." The man answered.

"I didn't realize I had a new forensic specialist." Beck told him.

"Yeah, well, I heard you had some trouble with your old one. Something about him being a horrible serial killer…" Kai replied. Jade scowled.

"Excuse me?" She responded coldly.

"Too soon?" Kai frowned.

"Ahem." Beck coughed, catching the man's attention again. "You were saying… about the body?" He asked again.

"Right, yeah, yeah, the body. First off, the bruising patterns are still pretty localized, not diffuse. So the blood was still pumping when he was hit." Kai explained.

"So he was definitely beaten _before _having his throat slit." Beck figured out. Kai smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. But check this out." He continued, grabbing the head and turning towards Beck. The Detective watched in disgust as a frothy mix of green pond water and congealed blood bubbled out of the victim's mouth. "See that? That's because he had blood in his larynx. Meaning he inhaled it. Meaning this dude was still alive when he had his throat slit." Kai concluded.

"So the killer beat him, then cut his throat to finish him off?" Jade asked for confirmation.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah. And check out the angle of the cut…" Kai said, jabbing one gloved hand into the neck wound, and then tracing his finger down along it. "A deep incision on the right side under the chin, going down to the left. Our killer's a leftie."

"You sure about that?" Beck asked, a little sceptical. In response, Kai stuck his right hand against the wound and traced it down. The gesture was awkward and forced. He then did the same thing with his left hand, and it seemed perfectly natural.

"See?" He smiled.

"Okay… anything else?" Beck hoped for more.

"There's always something else!" Kai answered enthusiastically. "Look at how dirty his back is, but not his arms. After he was killed, he was dragged along by the arms, then tossed into the pond."

"So he might've been killed somewhere else…?" Jade worked it out.

"Yeah, but near here. I'm having a hard time picturing someone dragging the dude halfway across the park without anyone seeing him." Kai said. "Anyway, that's all I got. If you guys need me, I'll be over by the kill. I've got some more tests to run, and there is a _great _view of these two chicks in bikinis sunbathing. _Total _hotties." Kai smiled suggestively before walking off. Jade turned to Beck, who was watching the new forensic specialist go with a look of bewilderment.

"Is there some rule in the SFPD charter that you can only hire the world's most bizarre lab techs?" Jade asked, unsure even herself if she was joking or not.

"Meh… I kind of like that guy." Beck shrugged. Jade scoffed.

"That guy. You kind of like _that guy_?"

"Hey, I'm not gonna vouch for his taste in shirts, but he seems like he knows what he's doing, and that's what matters, right?" Beck stood up for the man.

"I suppose so, but I'm still checking twice before changing in your station's locker room." Jade warned the Detective.

"You probably shouldn't have been changing in there in the first place, what, with some of those Vice cops…" Beck told her, the ringing of his phone in his pocket interrupting him. "Captain?" Beck answered.

"Beck. We've got a witness in your homicide. Emile used to frequent a dive bar down by the Mission when he got off to work." Tori explained. "The manager says he left last night with a pretty blonde girl… one that was apparently quite a bit out of his league. A beat cop picked a girl matching her exact description at a BART stop just a few blocks away from the bar. She admits to being with Emile last night."

"And?" Beck pushed the woman into continuing.

"And she says the two made out in the park, before she lost him. But I'm not entirely convinced she's telling the truth." Tori admitted.

"We'll be right there." Beck nodded, hanging up the phone.

* * *

**Thirty minutes later…**

In the SFPD Interrogation Room, Beck and Jade settled down on the opposite side of the table from Sandi Demme, her wavy, blonde hair covering her drooped face.

"Ms. Demme. I'm Detective Beck Oliver." He greeted the woman. "I hear you have some information for us."

"No, I don't have any information for you. That's what I told that stupid cop that picked me up!" Sandi complained defensively.

"Why don't you just tell me what happened last night, okay?" Beck requested. Sandi let out a deep, heavy sigh, looking down at the desk and clearing her throat.

"I was down at the bar last night. Just having a couple drinks after a long day. This guy, Emile, comes in around 10 o'clock, just tossing money around. Says he won big at the races." Sandi explained, clearing her throat again.

"You ever meet Emile before?" Beck continued.

"No. I'm new to town. But I know his type. Big talker, big drinker, not a whole lot going on upstairs." The woman said, pointing a long, pale finger towards her temple.

"But you still left with him." Beck pointed out.

"…Yeah." Sandi sighed after a tense moment of hesitation. "Yeah, I did. He was being funny, and nice, and… and you know, I was feeling kind of lonely."

"And the wads of case he was tossing around didn't hurt." Beck dryly added.

"Hey. I am _not _a whore!" Sandi scowled, crossing her arms. Beck let out a long, drawn-out breath.

"What happened next?" Beck continued to question the woman. She cleared her throat to answer.

"We walked back to his place and took a shortcut through Golden Gate Park. We were getting a little frisky against a tree, when my deadbeat brother called. I stepped away to take the call. It took about fifteen minutes. When I got back, Emile was gone. I figured he just got tired of waiting and bailed on me." Sandi explained. "That's all I know. I have no idea who beat him up, okay? Now can I go home?"

Beck raised an intrigued eyebrow as Jade tapped him on the arm. The two stepped into the side room.

"She's lying." Jade proclaimed immediately.

"Yeah? You're sure?" Beck asked.

"There are seven key signs that someone's lying. She's giving off six of them." Jade explained, looking back to notice Sandi playing with her hair. Jade let out a satisfied sigh and turned back. "Make that seven."

"Well, then I need to get her to slip up fast. As soon as her public defender gets her, she'll clam up." Beck resolved, re-entering the room and sitting back down opposite Sandi.

"What now?" She asked impatiently.

"Oh, not much. I just had this one question about your story. There's something in it that doesn't quite add up." Beck answered.

"Oh?" Sandi pressed into the matter.

"Yeah. It's about what you know." The Detective explained.

"What do you mean, what I know?" The woman questioned irritably.

"Well, you said you don't know who beat up Emile… but we never told you that Emile was beaten up." Beck pointed out with a proud smile. He had her backed into a corner now.

"I… I mean… I'm sure someone said that…" Sandi frowned, brushing her blonde fringe out of her eyes.

"No, Sandi. No one told you that. Now why don't you tell us what _really _happened last night?" Beck asked again.

"Okay. Okay. Fine. I saw more. I just… I was too scared to talk." Sandi admitted with a defeated sigh.

"What did you see, Sandi?"

"I went out to the woods with Emile. We were up against a tree, getting a little frisky, when my phone rang." Sandi began to repeat her story.

"You told me this before." Beck pointed out, trying to hide his impatience with the woman opposite him. Sandi began to tear up.

"I was standing to the side talking to my brother, when I heard Emile scream. I turned around and saw this tall guy hitting him with a pipe… just wailing on him." Sandi explained, her gaze firmly locked on her expensive pair of black pumps. "I was so scared… so scared… and then I watched him cut poor Emile with his knife, grab a bunch of Emile's stuff, and run away!" She finished.

"And you didn't report this to the police?" Beck questioned her angrily.

"I was too scared! The guy, he was this really shady, Italian-looking guy! I thought maybe he was a mobster or something!" Sandi defended herself. She then let out a heavy sigh. "That, and… I got some priors. Drug-related. And I wasn't exactly clean last night." She admitted. "I'm… I'm sorry I lied. I just… I'm kind of a wreck right now, okay?"

Beck glanced subtly at Jade, who shook her head in response.

_Still lying, huh? Let's see if I can trip her up._

"That's a much more compelling story, Sandi. But I still feel like you're not being entirely honest with me." Beck told her. She groaned in impatient frustration.

"What are you talking about?" She asked angrily.

"It's about _where _the body was found." Beck said. Sandi's eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you said that the man ran up, killed Emile, and ran off, right?" Beck began. Sandi nodded in agreement, a confused frown forming on her face.

"Right. That's what I saw." She confirmed.

"But Emile's body wasn't found lying on the ground. It was found in a _pond _nearby… where it had been dragged and dumped. If your mobster-looking guy killed Emile and ran off… who moved his body?" Beck interrogated the woman, who was staring at him seriously. Suddenly, she leaned back in her chair and her entire demeanor shifted: she dropped the sad victim act and became cold and distant.

"Alright. Fine. I'll tell you the truth. But I want an immunity deal before I give you any names." Sandi negotiated.

"Start talking."

* * *

**Don't worry, the main plotline is still flowing! Don't be turned away by the sudden change in pace from the previous chapters. :)**

**silkyblueskies73 (anonymous): I'm 17 years old. And thanks for the support!**

**GlitterGirl123: In case you can't already tell, yes, the story will still be continued here.**

**karlaserna: Yep, this second story arc is going to delve much deeper into Jade's life and past, so look forward to that!**


	13. Demme Fatale

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

"I was at the bar last night having a couple of drinks, when that Emile guy came in." Sandi Demme explained with a scowl. "The guy was a loud-mouthed idiot, bragging on and on, trying to buy me drinks. I managed to ditch him right around the time he was getting sloshed… and that's when this other guy pulled me aside." Sandi stopped to clear her petite little throat and then continued. "He looked really messed up, really sketchy. I always figured he had some criminal ties. He offered me a deal. He said he needed to talk to Emile about some debts, but Emile was always ditching him. He said if I could get Emile into Golden Gate Park, he'd pay me a hundred bucks. I swear to god, I had _no _idea he was gonna kill him!" She swore. "I thought he was just gonna scare him a little bit!"

"You know this shady guy's name?" Beck asked, satisfied with the woman's third version of what happened to Emile last night in the park.

"I don't know." Sandi frowned. "You have that immunity deal?"

* * *

**Twenty minutes later…**

"Okay, we're looking for a Vincent Scaletti." Beck repeated to Jade, who was sat quietly in the passenger seat of his car, as he pulled up outside an old, run-down apartment complex. "Tall dark hair, wiry build."

"I'm still not comfortable giving that woman an immunity deal, just like that…" Jade told him stormily.

"It sounds like Scaletti's both the brains and brawn of this operation. Sandi's just an accessory." Beck noted.

"Still, I…" Jade began to argue before suddenly noticing a man matching Beck's exact description out of her side window. "Hey! There! Isn't that our guy?" She gestured to him. Beck looked out of the window and saw the man in question running out of a building. Beck hurriedly unfastened his seatbelt.

"That's our guy! Move!" Beck ordered. He and Jade hopped out of the car and moved speedily down the street towards Vincent, who, as of yet, had not seen them. Beck gestured to Jade to move further forwards. The two of them creeped towards Vincent as he got to his car and messily jammed a suitcase in the trunk.

"Skipping town." Beck whispered to himself.

Vincent slammed the trunk down. He turned to walk around to his car door, and noticed Beck and Jade creeping up behind him. With a startled jump, Vincent spun and bolted down the street, forcing Beck and Jade to do the same.

"Goddammit! Why do they always run?!" Beck shouted in irritation as he and Jade rushed down the street in pursuit of their suspect. Vincent looked back and noticed the two gaining on him rapidly.

"_Crap_!" He cursed, knocking over a trashcan behind him in panic. Thinking fast, Beck leaped over the trashcan and kept on sprinting. Jade, however, was behind Beck and did not see the trashcan in time to react, tripping over it clumsily. She immediately looked up at Beck.

"Keep running! Go!" She urged the Detective, who unhesitantly obliged.

Vincent spun into a small side-alley. Beck turned after him in pursuit, and quickly examined the area, finding Vincent scrambling desperately up a fire escape ladder.

"Spry bastard…" Beck muttered to himself, running after him and making it to the bottom of the escape. Before Beck had time to do anything, Vincent released the ladder and sent it plummeting down at him. Momentarily lifting his hands up in effort to catch the ladder, Beck came to his senses and dodged to the side just moments before the heavy, steel came smashing down next to him. "_That's _assault on an officer!" Beck shouted after him, mounting the ladder and resuming the chase after Vincent.

"Screw you!" The wiry man replied from halfway up the fire escape.

The two men raced up the side of the apartment building, bounding up ladders. Vincent was fast, but Beck, with all his energy, managed to stay on him.

"You're not getting out of this!" Beck warned him.

"Leave me alone!" Was his reply.

Vincent bounded over the edge of the roof. Beck pulled up after him just in time to see him leap off the roof onto a nearby building.

"You have _got _to be kidding me!" Beck said to himself, preparing his run-up. "Who the hell wants to live forever?" And with those words, Beck rushed towards the edge of the rooftop, sprinting as hard as he could. The roof's edge loomed in the ever-shortening distance. After a few seconds, Beck threw himself over the rooftop and landed safely on the neighboring building with a stylized roll. Beck pulled himself up to his feet, but there was no sign of Vincent after a quick surveillance of the rooftop.

"Come on, come on… where are you?" The Detective muttered to himself, cautiously making his way across the building.

"Why won't you leave me alone?!" Vincent yelled from behind him. Beck spun around just in time to see Vincent swinging a pipe at his head, deftly catching his wrist and stopping the pipe a few inches from his head. With the other hand, Beck punched Vincent squarely in the face as hard as he could. Vincent screamed in pain and dropped limply to the ground.

"And stay down!" Beck uttered in triumph.

"My jaw, man… I think you broke my jaw!" The suspect cried from the ground. Next to him, the door to the roof swung open and Jade rushed out, panting for breath.

"Beck! You okay?" She asked, noticing what was happening.

"Just peachy. Help me cuff this guy, will you?" Beck requested. Jade held Vincent down whilst Beck pulled out a pair of handcuffs and clasped them onto his wrists. "Vincent Scaletti, you are under arrest for the murder of Emile Schulleman. You have the right to remain silent…" Beck started to recite.

"You ain't got nothing on me, pig! Nothing!" Vincent interrupted angrily.

"Nothing? Really? We know all about what happened last night, Vince. We've got your accomplice Sandi down at the station." Beck informed him. Vincent sat up right instantly at the mention of the woman's name.

"Sandi? You've got Sandi?" He asked in a surprised and concerned tone of voice.

"You'd better believe it."

"I… I… okay. I did it. You got me. I confess. I killed that guy. It was me. Just lock me up and get this over with." Vincent suddenly changed his tone completely. The change in attitude did not go unnoticed by the Detective standing before him.

"Well, you're awfully eager to confess… and I have to say, I find that suspicious." Beck's face tightened up in sudden confusion.

"I agree." Jade nodded. "For a guy that just risked his life to escape, I'm surprised you'd just admit your guilt like that." She pressed. Vincent tapped his foot on the ground impatiently.

"What are you talking about? I just admitted I did it! Isn't that what you want?" He asked in irritation.

"I thought it was… now I'm not so sure." Beck answered. "And hey… wait a minute! Look at this!" The Detective said, reaching for Vincent's right arm and holding it up. "He's wearing his watch on his left wrist… and when he attacked me, he was swinging the pipe in his right hand!"

"…So?" Jade prompted for Beck to elaborate.

"So, he's probably right-handed. And that means… he's not the one that killed Emile." Beck concluded. Jade raised an eyebrow. "Kai said that the person who killed Emile was _left-handed _, and I think that rules Vincent out." He said. Vincent shook his head rapidly.

"No! No! I swear! I killed the guy!" He insisted with a growing frown.

"He's giving a false confession to cover for someone else…" Jade analyzed.

"No! I'm not!" Vincent replied. A knowing smile grew on Beck's face.

"…And I know just who." The Detective said.

* * *

**A little while later…**

Beck rushed back into the police station and scanned the room, quickly noticing Sandi Demme on the other side of the station, having just finished signing her immunity deal. He approached the blonde-haired woman.

"Stop right there!" Beck ordered loudly, grabbing the attention of several of the police officers sat at their desks. Sandi rolled her eyes and turned to Beck.

"What is it now?" She scowled.

"Sandi Demme, you're under arrest!" Beck declared.

"What are you talking about? I've got immunity!" Sandi reminded him, grabbing the piece of paper she had just signed and holding it up in front of the Detective's face with a look that resembled one of triumph.

"You had immunity on the charges of accessory to armed robbery. That deal doesn't say a thing about murder." Beck informed her with a scowl to match Sandi's own. Sandi's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Murder? What are you talking about? I didn't murder anyone!" Sandi defended herself. The officer near her grabbed her by the wrist as Beck approached her and glanced down at the deal she had signed. "Beautiful handwriting, Sandi. And I can't help but notice you're left-handed…" Beck pointed out, gesturing to the pen Sandi gripped tightly in her left hand with a nod.

"What does that have to do with anything?" The woman asked impatiently.

"That was real clever, that act you pulled in the interrogation room. Giving up Vincent like that…" Beck patronized her. "Tell me something: did you play him the same way you played Emile? Because I think you did. I think you know how to play men, how to pander to them, how to get them eating out of your hand." He continued. Before Sandi could open her mouth to defend herself from Beck's accusations, the Detective had already begun talking again. "Guy like Vincent… slow… simple… easy. I bet it didn't take much at all to get him to do whatever you wanted. Hell, why do I keep talking? Why don't we let Vincent speak for himself?" Beck said, gesturing towards the door, which, at that moment, swung wide open as Jade walked in. Vincent was with her – in handcuffs, being escorted by the Special Agent to the holding cells. Vincent laid eyes on Sandi for a split second and immediately started struggling, trying to escape Jade's grasp.

"Sandi! _Sandi! _I told them it was me, baby! I told them I did it!" Vincent yelled to her from across the station. A look of panic flashed over Sandi's pale face.

"Shut your mouth! You shut your stupid mouth, you idiot!" Sandi ordered in frustration at the man's stupidity.

"It's all good, baby!" Vincent consoled her loudly, still writhing to escape Jade's grip. "You don't have to worry! I told them it was me!"

"_Shut up!_" Sandi screamed in panic. The angry woman made a step towards Jade and Vincent, but was instantly stopped in her tracks as the officers behind her slapped a pair of cuffs on her wrists, escorting her to the holding cells along with Vincent. Jade watched them go in bewilderment as Beck walked up to her, flashing a satisfied smile.

"Incredible." Jade remarked. "She sold him out, and he's still willing to take the fall for her."

"That's what I call true love." Beck chuckled. Jade smirked.

"Really? I was kind of leaning towards a crippling codependence and criminal sociopathy, but whatever…" She replied.

"Like I said… true love." Beck repeated with a chuckle.

"I'm not even sure which one of us is the cynical one anymore." Jade smiled.

"Let's just split the difference and say it's both of us." Beck suggested, turning his attention to Captain Vega, who was approaching the two of them with a small smile. Beck couldn't help thinking how strange it was to see the woman actually expressing feelings of happiness. Willingly.

"Well, Detective, looks like you had quite the day. Case opened and closed in an afternoon." Tori said. Beck shrugged the praise off, gesturing to Jade with a nod.

"With all due respect, Captain, there's a reason I'm your best detective… but I couldn't have done it without Special Agent West." He told her. Tori smiled again and nodded.

"Oh, I'm sure. And I hope she appreciates this." The Captain replied, pulling out a manila envelope from her pocket and handing it to the puzzled agent.

"What's this?" Jade asked, looking the envelope over.

"Robbie Shapiro's file from the Millbrook Mental Institute. I pulled some strings and got them to release it." Tori answered. A grateful smile slowly formed on Jade's face.

"…Thank you, Captain."

"I'm still not convinced by your theory… but I trust your judgement enough to consider it worth a look." Tori nodded. Her face suddenly tightened up. "Just don't waste my detective's time." She warned Jade, before turning away and walking off. Jade examined the envelope in her hands whilst Beck watched Tori go.

"Heart of gold, that one…" He mumbled.

Jade opened the file. Immediately, her face darkened noticeably.

"What is it?" Beck asked, noticing the sudden change in attitude from his partner.

"It's… it's completely redacted." Jade said, holding up a sheet of paper from the file. It was covered in dark black lines that blocked out all of the important information: Robbie's therapist, his diagnosis, his medication… and the reason for his release.

"What the hell…?" Beck whispered as though the person who did this to the file was watching.

"Someone tampered with this file, Beck. Blocked everything out." Jade sighed.

"Someone at the institute? A doctor? An administrator?"

"I was afraid of this. I think we're going to have to go diffing at Millbrook." Jade frowned.

"Why were you afraid of that?" Beck asked.

"Don't you know? The Millbrook Institute is a key pillar of the national Second Chance Initiative." Jade answered.

"The Second Chance Initiative…?" Beck pressed the issue in confusion.

"The widely praised criminal rehabilitation program… the one fully owned and run by Senator Jake Collins." Jade informed the Detective. Beck frowned.

"Ah hell." He cursed. "Captain's not going to like this, is she?"

Jade shook her head.

* * *

**A little while later…**

Sandi Demme sat in the interrogation room with a jaded, broken look on her face. Beck entered, flanked by a tall, handsome man in a suit.

"What do you want, Detective?" Sandi huffed angrily.

"For you to meet my good friend, District Attorney Oscar Santos." Beck answered, placing a hand on the shoulder of the dark, Spanish man beside him. "He'll be the one making sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars." The Detective informed her. Oscar scoffed.

"Let's not get melodramatic, Detective." He suggested, pulling up a chair on the opposite side of the table to Sandi. Beck did the same. "Now Sandi… let me be straight. We've got you on first degree murder. No jury in the world is going to think twice. You want even a chance of making it out of prison, you're gonna start talking now." Oscar warned the woman.

Sandi sighed deeply.

"Fine. Fine. I met Vincent about a year ago. He was just this dumb young thug, like to jack ATMs, that kind of thing. He fell for me. Hard. I have that effect on men." Sandi smiled to herself.

"I'm sure you do. Let's stay focused." Beck shrugged off the change of subject.

"We worked this hustle a couple of times before. I'd lure these drunk old pervs into the woods, Vince would rough 'em up, and we'd make out with everything they had on them." Sandi admitted.

"But you never killed them?" Oscar questioned.

"No. No. I'm not an idiot." The woman shook her head.

"So what went wrong?" Beck asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table.

"Vince went wrong, that's what." Sandi scowled. "Something about Emile, the way he was touching me... it set him off. Vince was always supposed to rough the guy up… but he went nuts, just beating the hell out of him with a tire iron!" She told them as though she were still in shock. "Believe me, the last thing I wanted was for Vince to beat the guy to death!"

"But he didn't beat him _to death. _That was the problem, wasn't it? Emile was beat bad, but he was still alive." Beck pointed out.

"Barely. _Barely! _He was lying there, spitting blood and choking… I knew the poor bastard was going to die. And suddenly, Vince realized what he'd done, and the little baby had a meltdown… sobbing, crying, saying he never wanted to be a murderer…"

"So you stepped up and finished Emile off." Oscar interrupted.

"Yeah. I did." Sandi nodded, meeting the man's analytical gaze. "What was I gonna do? Just leave him there like that? I wasn't going to take that chance. I did what I had to do." She defended her actions, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "But I'll tell you one thing, Detective… watching the light fade out of that creep's eyes… it felt good." She admitted with a sadistic smile. Beck took in a deep breath.

"One last question, Sandi. And this one's a big one. How many men have you killed before?" Beck asked, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. A wide, dark smile crept across Sandi's face.

"That's just going to have to be my little secret."

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

The room was pitch-black. The young woman sat tied to a chair, a bloody bandage wrapped around her right hand.

"P…please… don't hurt me anymore." She pleaded weakly. The burned man shoved a cell phone against her face. He spoke in a husky, Russian accent.

"Then say the words. Exactly as we rehearsed. And keep it natural." He ordered. The phone rang, rang, rang… and went to an answering machine. With tears in her eyes, Diana West began to speak.

"H… hi, mom. I just wanted to call… and let you know that I'm fine." She stuttered slightly, swallowing the lump in her throat and continuing. "I'm down in Vegas with some friends… just having a good time. I'll be home in a couple of weeks… so I'll see you then, okay? I… I love you."

The burned man hung up the phone.

"Good girl. Good girl." He said sinisterly.

"Please… please just let me go." Diana begged again.

"Sorry, my dear, but that's not my call to make." The burned man responded.

"Why are you keeping me here? Why are you doing this to me?" Diana cried faintly.

"Because that's what The Connoisseur wants."

* * *

**Dun dun DUUUUNNNNN! Jade's sister has a name! And I'm sure a certain someone(s) reading this will know where I got the name 'Diana' from. ;)**

**ILoveScissorsAndCoffee: Hmm... will we get to see that? We'll just have to wait and see. ;)**

**Sylkia Whacamolia: Poor ole' Slendy just can't catch a break, can he?**


	14. Head Case

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**Saturday, 2:30 a.m.**

Security Guard Mike Parsons shifted the hat resting atop his head and yawned tiredly. The pudgy man was working the late shift as a run-down dockyard, cramped into a small guard booth. His cell phone rang, and he angrily picked it up.

"Hey, Tom!" Mike immediately yelled. "Where the hell are you, man? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago!"

"I know, I know, but I got held up at the office. I'm almost there…" Tom replied. Mike glanced out at the calm, dark ocean from behind the metal dock gate. An eerie, old boat was moored at the docks, gently bobbing up and down in time with the gentle waves of water.

"Look, we had a deal." Mike continued. I let you use the dockyard for your little operation, you give me a cut, and I don't get mixed up in any of your crap! The boat is just sitting there, man! Any longer and they're gonna come out and start asking questions… and I am _not _dealing with that!" The man insisted.

"Sit tight!" Tom calmed the security guard. "I'm here!" And at that moment, a car screeched up to Mike's booth, and Tom Grayson frantically jumped out. "Let me in, man! Open the gate!" He urged desperately. Mike didn't move.

"Where's my cut?"

Tom slid an envelope containing $300 through the booth's window. Mike grabbed it and immediately his angry frown transformed into a pleased smile.

"Go right in!" He said happily.

"Thanks!" Tom replied as Mike pressed a button in front of him. The fenced gate to the docks slowly slid open. Tom tapped his feet on the floor impatiently. "Come on, come on…" He muttered to himself.

"Listen, man, I gotta say, this boat… it's not like the usual ones. It's all run-down and dark, real creepy." Mike frowned. "What the hell are you smuggling in?"

"Trust me… you don't want to know." Tom assured him, his gaze not shifting from the ever-so-slowly opening gate. Mike hesitated for a minute, and then exhaled heavily.

"You're right... I don't."

"You're a smart man, Mike." Tom told him. "You'll live a long life." The gate slid open the rest of the way, and Tom ran in quickly. He ran up to the boat and started talking to someone inside.

Mike picked up the envelope from his desk and started counting the cash inside.

"Hey… that cheap bastard stiffed me ten bucks!" Mike cursed angrily. Suddenly, a gunshot burst through the night, shattering the calm, eerie silence. Mike almost jumped out of his skin. "Oh my god!" He panicked, hunkering down in the guard booth and covering his head with his hands. A piercing scream rang out. "Oh my god… oh my god… oh my god…" Mike whispered to himself in terror.

Mike knew he couldn't just stay in the booth. He was like a cornered rat in the small, claustrophobic space. His only option was to _move. _Very slowly, Mike crawled out of the booth, trying to keep his head down. His heart was pounding out of his chest.

_Come on, come on, come on…_

Mike scampered forward over the dark, dock floorboards… and bumped right into a tall, dark man walking towards the parking lot.

"Aaaaaagh!" Mike screamed in fright, hunkering down and cradling his head. The man looked down at him, and for just one brief moment, Mike could have sworn he could feel the man grin… then he turned and walked off. Mike slowly looked up, taking a deep breath of fresh air the way he never thought he would live to do again. Fear overcame the security guard, and he looked down at the ground and covered his head again.

A few minutes later, Mike dared to look up. The man was gone.

"Oh my god… oh my god…" Mike whispered to himself, turning around and looking towards the old boat, bobbing gently in the night's breeze. There were no signs of movement… but something slick, dark and bulky lay on the dock in front of the boat. With trembling hands, Mike flipped on his flashlight and shone the light on the object. For one moment, he couldn't identify what it was…

And then he realized that it was Tom Grayson's mangled body, minus the head.

"_Aaggggggghhhhhhhhh!_" Mike screamed in horror, the sound of his fright echoing into the cold, empty night.

* * *

**The next morning…**

Soft sunlight streamed in through Jade's hotel window. She had just finished getting dressed for the day, when her phone rang. The black-haired woman glanced at the caller ID, then sighed irritably and answered it.

"Mom. Hi. I don't really have time to talk right now, I'm rushing out the door…"

"Well, I'm sure the serial murderers of the world can wait for one minute." Jade's mom interrupted. "I wanted to tell you that your sister is fine." She informed the agent, who internally sighed in relief.

"Oh?"

"She called and left me a message. Apparently, she's off partying in Las Vegas, of all places." Anita West continued.

"That's good to hear." Jade replied. "Not that I was worried about her or anything… but it's still nice to know, I guess."

"Oh, I know. I get so worried when she just disappears like that." Anita agreed.

"You don't give her enough credit, Mom." Jade told her.

"And you give her too much." The mother replied with a frown. "I trust that you can handle the very dregs of humanity… but she's not you. She's vulnerable, frail…" She trailed off, inhaling deeply and continuing. "When are you going to sit down with that girl and have a serious conversation? She needs to get her head on straight, to pursue a career." Anita asked.

"You know, there was a time when you and Dad didn't exactly approve of my choice of career." Jade reminded her.

"There's no need to rehash old arguments." Anita shrugged it off. "And believe me, I might not like what you do, but it beats squandering your life on shallow hedonism."

"Yeah, well, tell Dad that."

An awkward silence hung over the phone.

"Well… I saw a news story on the Maskmaker investigation. That partner of yours, the detective… he's quite handsome, isn't he?" Anita smiled.

"Mom!" Jade complained, embarrassed.

"What?"

"So what if he is? I mean…" Jade cleared her throat. "Even if Detective Oliver is a good-looking man… and I'm _not _saying he is… the two of us have a purely professional relationship." She insisted.

"Oh. Well. I just thought… after what happened between you and your last partner…"

The memory came back in a rush. The hot, muggy room… the shrill alarm clock, beeping insufferably from the bedroom… the suspect's hand trembling as he jammed a shotgun into the crib… Jade drew her gun… her partner Shawn lunged forward… then there's a piercing infant scream… and…

Jade pulled herself back to the present.

"I've got to go, Mom. I'll talk to you later." The agent quickly replied.

"But…"

Jade hung up the phone, tucking it into her pocket and hurriedly leaving the hotel room.

Beck sat in his car just outside the hotel, waiting for her. Jade pulled the passenger door open.

"Hey there, partner. What took so long?" Beck asked.

"Phone call from my mom. Don't worry about it. Let's drive." Jade insisted softly.

* * *

**Ten minutes later…**

The two of them were headed out of the city.

"The Millbrook Mental Institute is out in the East Bay… it's gonna be a bit of a drive." Beck warned her.

"That's fine. I like seeing the area. And… I appreciate you taking your day off to help me with my investigation." Jade smiled.

"Hey, it was that or another meeting with my divorce lawyer. Besides, I want to be there when you figure out who the hell was working with Robbie." Beck told her. "You really think someone at the Mental Institute is responsible?" He asked.

"I think it's very likely. I mean, come on, you saw how those files had been redacted, Beck. Any information that could've led us to Robbie's accomplice had been edited out. I'm not saying Robbie's benefactor works at the Institute. It's possible that they were just negligent in their treatment of him and are covering up. But something suspicious is going on there. I'm sure of it." Jade explained.

"Good. Because we're both taking a big risk even poking around there."

"Because of the Second Chance Initiative?" Jade asked.

"Yeah." The detective nodded. "I did a little reading this weekend. Did you know the program claims to have a 90 percent success rate?"

"You sound sceptical." Jade observed.

"Look, I respect the goal as much as the next guy. Providing comprehensive psychiatric help to violent, young offenders sounds like a great idea… but I've looked into the eyes of some of these kids. And some of them are just bad right down to the core… bad in a way no doctor can fix." Beck sighed.

"And you could tell that just by looking into their eyes?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, actually, I could. You disagree?" Beck raised his eyebrows.

"My personal beliefs don't matter." Jade shrugged the question off. "The point is, we're wading very risky political territory. The program is the brainchild of Senator Jake Collins. I don't have to remind you how much power he holds in your state."

"Hell, I voted for the guy. Twice. Heard he might be running for President in 2016." Beck chuckled.

"We have no official authorization to examine the Millbrook Institute. If this is in any way read as an attack on the Senator… we could both find ourselves in some very hot water." Jade worried. "Until we have absolutely solid evidence, we need to treat this like a routine check-in."

"You're saying I should be on my best behavior." Beck checked.

"I could put it more delicately… but yeah." Jade confirmed with a nod.

"Okay, here's a hypothetical question for you: let's say we do find something. Let's say this goes all the way up to the top. What do you do then?" Beck tested.

"Then I put whoever is responsible behind bars." The agent answered without hesitation.

"Just like that?" Beck scoffed. "_Whoever _it is?"

"Beck, if I'm right, and someone trained, finance, and supported The Maskmaker, then I'm taking that person down." Jade promised with a determined look on her face. "And I don't care if he's a police chief, a Senator, or the President of the United States."

"Heh. You know something, Jade? You play it real cool, like you're this calm, serious intellectual… but when it comes right down to it, you're as crazy as me." Beck smiled.

"You wish, Beck. You wish."

* * *

Detective André Harris stood at the foot of a long San Francisco dock. A body lay in front of a rusty, old fishing boat, roped off by police tape. The head had been severed, as had the victim's right hand. André found himself staring at the gaping, bloody wounds in twisted fascination.

"That's just like Beck… taking a day off, and leaving me to deal with Captain Stumpy." André muttered to himself.

Kai Kalaba strolled up to the detective merrily, munching on a candy bar.

"I woulda gone with the Headless Horseman myself, but I'm a sucker for a cheap pun." The technician remarked. André shot him a blistering look, and then turned to the officer on the scene.

"Do we know who the victim is?" He asked.

"The victim's wallet was still in his jacket. His driver's license IDs him as Tom Grayson." Officer Anna Willis answered. "Looks like he worked for the Customs Service."

"Any sign of the head or the hand?" Kai asked.

"We found the head floating in the water behind the boat. The local crabs have been eating at it all night, so it's kind of a mess. We've got it on ice if you want to see it." Anna informed them.

"I do!" Kai jumped up enthusiastically, earning him two very confused looks.

"…Right. No sign of the hand, though. Must have been carried off by the tide." The woman theorized.

"So the million dollar question is… were there any witnesses?" André asked.

"No one reported being here." Anna frowned.

"I didn't ask if anyone reported being here. I asked if there were any witnesses. That's a guard's booth right over there." André pointed out, nodding towards the small, wooden shack next to the dock gate. "Now these might not be the nicest docks in the city, but they don't look abandoned. I'd bet good money there was a guard working here last night. Get me his name." André ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Anna said, walking off.

"Why do you assume the guard's a 'he'? Could be a 'she'. There are some foxy female guards out there…" Kai trailed off with a smile.

"How about you make yourself useful, lab geek, and go examine the body?" André suggested frustratedly.

"My pleasure." The man smiled, strolling over to the body and squatting down over it. "Wow, you don't often see beheadings this clean… no sawing, no hacking… if I had to guess, I'd say this dude's head came off with one chop."

"Like with a samurai sword?" André asked.

"Like… any long blade. But points for imagination!" Kai smiled, examining the cut closer. "Wait… not just any blade. Look at these little flakes embedded in the spinal column. The killer used a ceramic knife." Kai figured out.

"Ceramic?"

"Sharp as hell, and passed clean through metal detectors. We're dealing with a pro. And also… huh. Guessing the officers on scene didn't move the body." Kai said, rolling the body over. Underneath it was a severe hand, still clutching a snub-nosed revolver. Next to it was a spent shell casing.

"Whoa!" André jumped back in shock.

"I'm guessing out victim got off one shot…" Kai mumbled to himself as André recollected himself and stepped up to the body.

"So our victim's here last night, meeting someone from this boat. They talk. It goes sour. The vic pulls out his gun, but the perp's faster. He cuts off the vic's hand with one swoop and then he takes off the head. Two clean cuts. That means the killer was probably trained in combat." The Detective theorized. "Your average person craps himself at the sight of a gun. This guy was quick enough to whip out a blade, disarm the attacker, and finish him off."

"Heh. Disarm." Kai giggled immaturely.

"One more joke and you're going in the ocean, lab geek." André warned him, furrowing his eyebrows in growing anger.

"Right. Sorry. I, uh, agree with your assessment. The person that did this likely had some serious training. Special Forces style. You know, the Bangkok PD use knives as their primary weapon rather than guns… they can out-draw a gun-wielding target within 7 yards, easy." Kai went off-topic in fascination. André rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Yeah, well, I hope you don't mind if I'm not scrambling to call the Thai consulate." He replied coldly, his mind elsewhere. Suddenly, Officer Willis tapped him on the shoulder.

"Your hunch was right, Detective. The dock's owned by a Paul Chennowick… he's a landlord with property all over the city. According to him, there was a security guard on duty last night. Mike Parsons. We're getting his address now." Anna informed him.

"Good work, Officer." André smiled before turning to Kai. "Hey, lab geek! You stay here and do your lab geek stuff. I'm gonna go see what Mike Parsons has to say for himself."

* * *

**Yaaaaaaayyy I got the chapter finish in time! I admittedly got a bit lazy and fell behind with my writing, and only finished this chapter half an hour before uploading it, but hey, at least I managed it!**

**GlitterGirl123: Yes yes YES she is like my favourite character out of anything _ever. _Thank you so much for recognising the awesomeness.**

**Karen (anonymous): Like I said to a reviewer in the previous chapter, we'll just have to wait and see if there is any Beck/Jade romance on the horizon... ;)**


	15. Millbrook Mental Institute

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Special Agent Jade West walked quietly through the halls of the Millbrook Mental Institute with Beck by her side. An aide was guiding them through. The asylum was fairly open, with various patients wandering about. A skinny, ragged patient scowled at her as she walked by.

"Didn't mean to, that's what she didn't understand." The patient said to himself. "Didn't mean to cut her… but then I couldn't stop. Couldn't stop." He whispered, walking away in his own little world. Beck shuddered.

"Ugh. Places like this… they always give me the creeps. Especially when they make me give up my gun." He complained as the aide led them to a tall, oak door. She pushed it open, and Beck and Jade walked inside. The office of the Institute's Director was elegant and well-furnished, with a large, carved, oak desk in the middle of the room. A neat, middle-aged man sat behind the desk.

"Doctor Rick Tanaka?" Jade asked.

"Yes, that's me. And you are?" The man returned the question.

"Special Agent Jade West, and this is Detective Beck Oliver." Jade answered, gesturing to Beck. "We'd like to speak to you about a former patient at this institute… Robbie Shapiro, formerly known as Brian Resler?" The agent requested.

"Ah, this is about the Maskmaker Investigation, yes? I believe I had those files sent over to your Captain…" He remembered.

"Those files are what we wanted to talk about, Doctor." Jade said. "They weren't entirely useful." She informed the man. Dr. Tanaka narrowed his gaze and examined Jade closely.

"Unless I'm deeply mistaken, the Maskmaker investigation should be closed. May I ask what precisely you're still looking for?" The doctor requested.

"Uh, we'd like to better understand why he did it." Jade lied. "I mean, Dr. Tanaka, with all due respect, as a psychiatric professional, you must respect the need for thorough research and documentation. Any information we can get into the mind of Robbie Shapiro… Brian Resler… could prove vital in expanding our understanding of serial killer psychology." She argued.

"Ah. I understand." Tanaka smiled. "I apologize for my caution, Special Agent. In today's polarized political climate, this institution has developed something of a controversial reputation. What precisely would you like to know?" He asked.

"Robbie's files were heavily redacted, to the point of being unusable. I was hoping we'd be able to see the unedited versions."

"Ah." The doctor sighed. "Unfortunately, unless you have a warrant, that's not going to be possible. You see, Robbie was a participant in the Second Chance Initiative."

"Right. And I'm guessing the good people at the Initiative don't want anyone scrutinizing their work too closely." Beck interrupted.

"Watch your tone, Detective." Dr. Tamaka warned. "A cornerstone of rehabilitation is the ability to begin a new life after recovery… and that means putting the old life behind. Many of our patients re-enter the world in a fragile, vulnerable state… and that state can be too easily compromised by ill-spirited people dredging up information about their past." He continued, taking in a deep, heavy breath. "When possible, we lobby to expunge the criminal records of rehabilitated young offenders. We seal and redact psychiatric records for the same reason."

"So you cover up the evidence that these people are dangers to society." Beck scowled.

"No, Detective." Dr. Tamaka denied. "If we believed these people to be dangerous, they would never be released."

"And Robbie Shapiro? You believed him to pose no danger to society?" Jade spoke up in Beck's defence.

"Yes, Special Agent, we did. And if you have even the faintest grasp of the science of psychiatry, you'll know that no diagnosis is 100 percent accurate. There's always a margin of error!" The doctor argued.

"Maybe, doc, but your margin of error killed half a dozen people." Beck pointed out.

"In all of his sessions with me, Robbie demonstrated that he was fully rehabilitated." Dr. Tamaka said, his voice rising.

"So you were Robbie's doctor? You're the one who believed him fit to rejoin society?" Jade asked. Dr. Tamaka shook his head.

"This interview is over." He declared. "If you want to talk any more, you'll have to come back with a warrant. Now get out of my office."

* * *

André pulled his squad car up to a derelict, run-down apartment, examining the building as he clambered out of the vehicle.

_Looks like Security Guard Mike Parsons isn't exactly living the high life…_

André strolled up to the apartment building and rang the buzzer.

"Mike Parsons?" The Detective called. "This is SFPD Detective André Harris! I need to talk to you about where you were last night."

André could hear a faint shuffling, then a voice came from the other side of the door.

"Let… let me see some ID! Hold your badge to the peephole!" The voice demanded. Letting out a sigh of impatience, André whipped out his badge and jammed it up against the door. A minute later, several locks slid open and Mike opened the door.

The security guard's long, brown hair stood out extraordinarily against the unnatural pale of his face. The man was trembling and darting paranoid glances up and down the street.

"I… I don't know nothing…" Mike faintly assured the Detective.

"You know, that's _exactly _how most innocent people start a conversation. Mind if I come in?" André asked bluntly.

"Well, I… I guess, you can…" The security guard frowned.

"Great." André remarked monotonously, stepping into a filthy apartment. Flies buzzed around old pizza boxes and piles of dirty clothes lie everywhere. "Nice digs, Mike. Now let's talk about last night." André said, turning to the pale man. "Were you at your shift at Chennowick Dockyard?"

"N… No. I called in sick. I, uh, wasn't feeling good." Mike answered, averting his gaze to just about anything in the apartment other than the Detective questioning him.

"Stop lying to me! You bastard!" André suddenly yelled in frustration.

"I'm not! I'm not lying!" The security guard promised, rapidly shaking his head and backing away from André in fear. André reached out to grab Mike's shoulder and violently slam him against the wall, the impact making the whole apartment seem to shudder.

"I know a liar when I see one, and you're lying through your teeth! Now tell me the truth!" André demanded, his face inches away from Mike's.

"Okay, okay! Fine! I _was _working last night!" Mike admitted, closing his eyes and turning his head away from André in fright. André immediately loosened his grip on the security guard.

"That's what I thought. Now how about telling me what happened?"

"So… I kind of had a deal with this guy, Tom. I let him use the docks for his… Business, and he gave me a little cut." Mike started with an exhausted sigh, pacing the limited space in the apartment.

"What kind of business we talking here?" André scowled.

"Aw man, I… I don't want to get in trouble…" Mike worried with a frown.

"You _are _in trouble. Keep talking." André told him bluntly.

Mike let out a frustrated, stressed groan and dropped himself onto the danky, dusty chair in the corner of the room.

"I don't know the details, okay? I think it had to do with his Customs job… Fake paperwork, smuggling, that kind of thing!" The security guard explained. André nodded.

"And last night?" He prompted Mike to continue.

"Last night, something… Something went wrong. He went in… I heard a gunshot, a scream…" A small shiver ran its way up the man's spine. "And then I saw his… His body… and I ran." Mike admitted, shuddering violently from simply recalling the moment. "That's all I got, man! All I got! I swear!"

"And I don't believe you." André scowled. "Who was Tom dealing with that night? Who was he getting papers for?" The Detective asked in rising irritation.

"I don't know!" Mike insisted.

André gritted his teeth in frustration. He was getting nowhere.

_Time to play hardball…_

Without warning, André leaped forward and turned Mike's whole body around, slamming him against the couch. André whipped out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them onto the confused man.

"In that case, Mike Parsons, you're under arrest for murder." André told him.

"Murder?!" Mike replied desperately. "What are you talking about? I didn't murder Tom!"

"Someone did, and you've admitted to being at the scene. That makes you prime suspect!" The detective informed him.

"No! Wait! It wasn't me! It was the Mexicans!" Mike blurted out in fear. André raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Mexicans? What Mexicans? Is that who Tom was dealing with?" André asked, loosening his grip on the man writhing beneath him.

"Yeah! The drug cartels, man! He'd help them smuggle drugs in, get clearance papers for their boats and fake passports for their mules! That's all I know, okay? I _didn't _kill him!" Mike insisted. André hesitated for a moment, studying Mike's face for any signs that he still had something to hide.

"I believe you. But I'm taking you down to the station anyway." The Detective told him, pulling him up from the chair roughly.

"What? Why're you doing that?" Mike asked confusedly.

"Because if you're a witness to a cartel homicide, you're a lot safer there than you are here." André answered. "Let's go."

**Half an hour later…**

After dropping Mike Parsons off at the police station, André headed down into the crime lab, where Kai was attempting to draw Cat's attention to something.

"Come on, Cat, just one look! It's really fascinating!" Kai urged her enthusiastically.

"Eww, no, Kai!" Cat responded in disgust. "For the last time, I don't want to see that severed head!"

"But it's all decomposed and bloated! I found a crab living in the neck stump!" Kai told her excitedly.

"_That's why I don't want to see it!_" Cat yelled, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Settle down, kids, or I'll turn this car around and go home." André interrupted. "Cat. I need you to run the dock murder through the Interpol database. Cross-reference Mexican drug cartels with ceramic knifes and decapitation." The Detective requested.

Cat turned to her computer immediately and typed furiously. Images flickered so quickly across the screen they hurt Andrés eyes.

"And… done!" Cat smiled. "I've got at least seven matches… all drug-related murders, the victims mutilated with a high-quality ceramic blade."

"Any idea who's behind it?" André asked.

"It says here that they suspect this was the work of… 'The Ghost'." Cat read from the glaring monitor. An uneasy silence hung over the room for a few seconds.

"That sounds… ominous." Kai commented.

"His real name is Alejandro Perez. He was trained as an interrogator in the School of the Americas…" Cat continued to read from the screen, rapidly scrolling down the page. "Employed by El Salvadoran death squads in the 90s… After that, he began freelancing as an assassin for various Latin-American drug cartels."

"And now he's here in San Francisco." André frowned. "Great."

Cat read something from the webpage and raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"This is interesting. It says here that he applies a religious significance to his assassinations… And that he's very particular about killing _only _his targets." Cat read out.

"That explains why he let the guard live." André figured out. "He wasn't on the list."

"So someone brought in a highly trained assassin just to knock off a corrupt customs agent?" Kai summarized the story with a sceptical look.

"I doubt it. Tom was small-time. If the cartels are taking the risk of bringing someone like The Ghost into the United States, they've got a bigger target in mind. Killing Tom was probably just him taking care of a loose end." André theorized.

"So who's the real target?" Cat asked with a worried frown.

"I don't know." André sighed defeatedly after a pause. "But we need to find out… And fast."

* * *

Jade West walked down the long, grey corridor back out of the Institute with Beck Oliver walking beside her, a disappointed frown plastered onto his face.

"That went well." The Detective remarked sarcastically.

"I had a feeling Dr. Tanaka wouldn't exactly be forthcoming… but that was just a deliberate stonewall." Jade complained.

"Oh yeah, he's definitely hiding something." Beck nodded in agreement. "But I don't think we have the authority to probe any deeper."

"If he's hiding something, I don't blame him. If I was the doctor that released the Maskmaker, I wouldn't want anyone knowing either." The Special Agent frowned.

"Maskmaker…" A voice began speaking from the seemingly empty corridor. Jade jumped in fright, her black hair falling in front of her face. "Brian Resler… Then Robbie Shapiro… The boy with the masks…"

Beck and Jade froze completely in their tracks, looking around the area. The hallway was totally empty, except for the patient from earlier, who was leaning out of a doorway.

"Did…" Jade began, recomposing herself after the mini-heart attack she had just had, "Did you know him? The boy with the masks?"

"Yes, yes, he was my friend. Not a lot of friends here, not a lot of friends, but he was one." The patient replied, nodding his head limply. "He's gone though. They let him go. He's gone, and I'm still here. No more friend." The confused man frowned.

Jade looked around to check no one was watching except for Beck, then stepped closer.

"Why did they let your friend go?" The woman asked.

"He was good. He was fixed. He was better, you know, better. Not like me. That's why he got out."

"He was fixed… so he didn't like masks anymore?" Jade probed deeper.

"What? No. No." The patient shook his head. "He still liked masks. He loved masks. Wanted to make lots of them. That's what he was going to do."

Jade furrowed her eyebrows.

"So what do you mean, 'he was better'?" she asked in confusion.

"Doctors said he was better… doctors said he was fixed. Hope he was fixed. Doctors talked to him a lot. All those… special classes." He replied in a loud whisper.

"Special classes?"

"Doctors said he was better… but doctors, they always lie… that's what doctors do. They lie. They say one thing, but it's, it's another. They make them go away, yes… friends. They make friends go away." The man continued, his voice rising.

"Jade, he's getting pretty worked up." Beck began to warn Jade before being interrupted by the patient.

"Are you a… a doctor? Are you with the doctors? I don't like doctors… doctors make them go away…"

"I promise you," Jade cut in harshly, "I am _not _a doctor. I just want to hear what you have to say."

"I don't like that!" The patient screeched. "I don't like it when they go away! Don't like the doctors… don't like them! Graves… Gault… Voyer… what did the doctors do to them? Why did they do it? Whywhywhy?"

Suddenly, a door at the end of the hall swung open with a loud slam.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" Dr. Rick Tanaka yelled loudly from the other end of the hall. "I believe I asked you to leave, not interrogate my patients!"

The doctor approached angrily as the patient jumped and ran around Beck and Jade, crouching behind them.

"Don't talk like that. Don't talk to her! She's my friend! She's _my _friend!" The terrified man replied.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but you've agitated a deeply unstable patient and…" Tanaka continued.

"No!" The cowering man screamed. "They're my friends!" With an angry roar, the patient lunged forward, shoving Beck and Jade aside and grabbing Dr. Tanaka forcefully. Beck and Jade slammed against a wall, having been caught off-guard.

"Whoa!" Jade exclaimed as the patient pulled a long, jagged shard of glass out of his sleeve. Jade jumped up as he pressed the glass against the doctor's throat.

"Where the hell did he get that?!" Beck yelled as he struggled to his feet, gesturing angrily at his empty gun holster.

Jade slowly and carefully approached the unstable man as he pressed the glass deeper into Tanaka's throat.

"Want me to kill him? I'll kill him. Cut him real nice. Cut his jugular, cut cut cut…" The patient giggled to himself.

"L-let's just talk this out." Jade reasoned, internally cursing at her unintentional stutter.

"What do you want to talk about?" The man responded, not averting his gaze from the trembling doctor in his grasp. "How about I cut him? Want me to take it slow? Been a while since I cut, but I, I still think I know how, I still think I know how…"

Jade was quick to notice how the man was beginning to relax. The man jammed the shard tighter against the trembling doctor's throat, causing a thin stream of blood to drip down his neck.

"L-listen to me closely, Everett." Dr. Tanaka stuttered, "I know you're upset, but I… I am _not _your enemy!"

The patient shook his head violently. "Shut up! Not another word!" He yelled through gritted teeth. "_Not another word!_"

"For god's sake, doc, keep your mouth shut…" Beck murmured under his heavy breath.

Jade glanced momentarily at Beck, and then focused back on the deranged patient.

"Listen, Everett… wait, that _is _your name, right?" Jade asked cautiously.

"Yeah…" The patient nodded his pale head almost as though he was in a daydream, "Everett Legreaux. That's me."

Jade took an almost unnoticeable step closer. "Let's talk more about Robbie."

"The boy with the masks." Everett instantly recognized the name. "Do you know him? Do you know how he is?" He asked, slightly loosening his grip on the shard of glass pressed against the doctor's throat.

"We do, actually. We just talked to him, and he asked about you." Jade lied in the sort of tone one would use to talk to an obedient dog, "Do you know how he feels about cutting?"

Everett frowned, his shoulders dropping slightly. "He… he didn't like cutting. Only did it when he had to. Said it was messy… said it left a stain."

Jade continued to toss the word 'stain' around in her mind as she continued to talk the patient down.

"Yeah, I bet he did. Now do you really think he'd want you to cut the doctor?" The FBI Agent asked.

"N…no…" Everett admitted with a hefty sigh.

_It's working… I think he trusts me now._

Jade took another gentle step closer to the confused patient, when suddenly a door at the other end of the room swung open. A guard ran in, a pistol wielded in his right hand. Everett screamed in fright, almost damaging the ears of the poor doctor held against him.

"Guards! I hate _guards! _I hate them even more than doctors!" Everett cried out in anger, not hesitating to dig the shard even deeper into Dr. Tanaka's neck. The skin around the glass shard began to split.

"Keep cool everyone, just keep cool!" Beck ordered, attempting to take charge of the situation. He turned to Jade, "You got this, Jade?"

Jade smirked. "I got it." She confirmed with a nod before turning back to the patient, "Everett, I don't think you want to hurt the doctor."

"Why not?!" Everett asked like an impatient kid told not to open his Christmas presents yet.

Jade took another step forward, finding herself within arm's reach of the burdened patient. Very slowly, he started to plunge the shard deeper and deeper into Dr. Tanaka's neck.

"Please… someone… do something…" The terrified doctor squeaked, his life flashing before his eyes.

"No talking, Doctor… I said no talking…" The patient growled, winding up for a final thrust…

In one fluid motion, Jade grabbed Everett's wrist, jerked the shard away from the doctor's throat, and twisted it, eliciting a cry of pain from the patient.

"Agggh!"

The shard clattered harmlessly to the ground. Jade twisted the patient's arm around his neck, kicked him in the back of the knees, and knocked him down into a subdued choke hold without giving him a moment to breath.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you-?" Everett cried.

"Shut up." Jade coldly interrupted. "Can I get some guards here?!" She yelled at the guard standing helplessly in the doorway.

The guard scrambled down the corridor towards them, joined by several others. They wasted no time in subduing Everett and dragging him screaming away. Dr. Tanaka staggered away, touching the small but significantly deep cut in his throat.

"Doctor Tanaka, I swear, we never intended to…" Jade began to apologize.

"No. Don't say a thing!" The infuriated man commanded. "You have done more than enough damage here today! I will want words with your superiors. And you'll be lucky if I don't press charges."

Beck and Jade both internally sighed in defeat.

"Now get the _hell _out of my Institute!"

* * *

**One day ago…**

Having just paid $300 to the guard at the gate, Tom Grayson rushed up to the old, creaky boat at the end of the docks. A shadowy figure stood in it's entryway.

"Excuse me?" The tall man spoke up awkwardly. "I'm Tom Grayson. I'm, uh, here regarding your paperwork.

The Ghost stepped under a spotlight, and spoke up with thinly accented English.

"You're late, Tom Grayson."

"Right, well, I apologize sincerely for that. I was caught up at my office. Let me make it up to you. I'll take 75 off the total for the passport and the driver's license. That should do the trick, right?" Tom asked, a nervous smile forming as a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead. "Right?"

The Ghost stepped forward, one hand tucked behind his back.

"Do you believe in God, Tom Grayson? Are you a religious man?"

"Well, I… I'm not sure what that has to do with anything." Tom frowned, "I just… is something the matter?"

"Two weeks ago, my employers purchased a boat registration from you. They were told it was flawless. The boat was stopped in American waters. The registration did not hold up. My employers lost $20,000 in product. My employers are not happy." The man answered.

"Now… now wait just a minute!" Tom cautiously took a step away from the man. "I… I never promised them… I can't be held accountable…" The scared man stuttered.

"No accountability?" The Ghost scoffed. "That is a sign of a lack of character. My employers to not favour men of low character. And they do not favour men who wrong them."

"I… I didn't wrong anyone…" Tom swore, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

"When my employers are wronged by men of low character, they respond with divine justice. I am their hand. And they are divine." The mysterious man took a step forward. "And so I ask you again, Mr. Tom Grayson, do you believe in God?"

"If… if you just let me talk, I'll make this all work…" Tom staggered back, prompting the man the take another step forward. "Please don't kill me!" Tom suddenly cried in fear, jamming his hand into his coat and pulling out his revolver.

Fast, too fast, The Ghost crossed the gap between them. There was a blur of metal in the moonlight. Tom's revolver fired harmlessly into the air.

And then his severed hand hit the docks, the gun firmly clenched in its twitching fingers. Tom screamed a piercing shriek of pain and fell to his knees.

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" Tom cried in terror and agony.

"A-ha. Now you believe." The Ghost chuckled.

The Ghost winded up and severed Tom's head. It plunged into the dark water with a spray of hot, arterial blood. Tom's body stood still for minute, then toppled to its side. The Ghost smiled sadly, wiping down his blade and walking off.

* * *

**Present Day**

"Those were nice moves back in that hospital." Beck praised the FBI Agent sat beside him as they drove back into San Francisco. "You dealt with that situation like a pro."

"Thanks. I'm glad no one got seriously hurt, but somehow, I doubt Dr. Tanaka sees it that way." Jade replied grimly. Beck shrugged and turned back to the road. "How do you think Captain Vega is going to react when Dr. Tanaka calls her?"

"Hmmm? Oh, he's not going to call her." Beck replied, sounding… assured.

Jade put on a confused expression. "What are you talking about?"

"What happened may not look good for us… but it looks way worse for him. On his watch, a patient managed to get a deadly weapon and hold an administrator hostage. If it wasn't for you, hell, he might well be dead right now." Beck pointed out with a confident smile. "Sure, he's pissed now… but when he cools down, he's going to realize it's in his best interest to let this whole thing blow over."

"You sound pretty confident." Jade observed.

"Trust me. I know guys like Tanaka. In the end, pissed off or not, he's going to worry first and foremost about himself." Beck concluded with a smile that quickly transformed to a frown. "I just wish we could have gotten something out of him though. Something to convince the Captain that we're working on a case.

"We are working a case, though. I'm more sure of that than ever." The pale woman replied.

"Yeah, well, I doubt Captain Vega is going to take the incoherent ramblings of a medicated psycho as proof." Beck remarked with a scowl.

"No, she…" Jade began but trailed off, her eyes lighting up as she realized something, "Wait. Wait a minute…" Jade whispered, fumbling a notebook out and flipping through it. She stopped on a page full to the brim of notes, a shocked expression forming on her face. "Son of a…"

"What is it?" The Detective asked, his curiosity eating away at him.

"When he was talking about his friends, that patient today, he said some names, remember? Graves, Gault, and Voyer!" Jade exclaimed triumphantly, whilst Beck still looked as puzzled as ever.

"So?"

"So, I just realized why they sounded so familiar. Look at the notes I took while going through the files from the Institute." Jade turned the notebook towards the man, using her finger to point out the names in question. "Jonah Graves. Kenneth Gault. And Carl Voyer. All three were patients released by the Second Chance Initiative between 2004 and 2008!"

Beck shrugged. "I still don't get what you're saying."

"Beck… we've been theorizing that Robbie had a benefactor… but…" A grim look fell on the agent's face, "…but what if he wasn't the only one? If this person would train, protect and finance one serial killer… why not two? Why not three?"

Beck pulled the car over in stony silence.

"That… is one hell of a thought."

"Yes. Yes it is." Jade frowned, glancing out of the window at the building they had pulled up in front of, "This isn't my hotel."

"No. But it is my favourite bar. And after a thought like that, I need a good drink. Wanna join me?" Beck offered with a weak smile.

"I could use one, sure… but I thought you had divorce papers to fill out." Jade reminded him. "What would your ex-wife think if she knew you were putting that off to drink with your partner?"

"To hell with what she thinks." Beck snorted, hopping out of the car. "Let's go."

Jade followed suit, climbing out of the car, still perturbed by her theory.

"Hey, my apartment is right around the corner. I'm gonna go grab some cash. Meet you in ten?" Beck told her.

"Sure thing. I'll order a round." Jade smiled as Beck began to walk away. After a second or two, he turned back to her.

"Get me something cold and dark! And order a side of onion rings!" Beck called over to her, before rushing down the street and up the flight of stairs to his apartment.

Entering this place always brought his entire mood down. This cold, messy, dusty apartment that was once home to a loving married couple was now just a place to house a single man's woe. Today, however, the atmosphere in the lonely apartment was especially cold and dismal, so much so that Beck felt a powerful urge to leave the second he entered.

_The place is still a mess… I really ought to clean it up._

Beck headed across the room towards a dresser…

…and that's when he noticed the tall, lean man standing in the back corner. He had one hand tucked behind his back… but Beck could see the moonlight shining off of the long blade he held behind his back.

A long, ceramic blade.

"Hello, Detective Oliver. I've been looking forward to this." The Ghost said, stepping into the moonlight.

* * *

**I'm really, really sorry I took such a long, unexplained break. Exams were just piling up and up and stressing me out and to be quite honest, I didn't have any time to write anything. Now that I've left school for the summer, I have time, so I will probably get back into some regular updating for a while.**

**Also, guys, the Third Bi-Annual Topaz Awards are taking nominations! Head on down to this link:**

** forum/The-Topaz-Awards-2013/108350/**

**and nominate some fics that _you _think are good enough to win an award! :)**

**silkyblueskies73 (anonymous): These incidents most certainly **_**are **_**leading up to something! Stay tuned to find out what. ;) Also, my username is not easy to understand, so don't worry. It's the word 'pareidolia' backwards, but you'll have to look up the definition of 'pareidolia' to understand **_**why **_**I made it's backwards spelling my username.**

**VicTORIousBlond (the magic of Google Translate): ¡Gracias! Habrá más vueltas por venir, y Jade sin duda estarán en peligro pronto!**

**dxgevo: Sorry I took such a long break! I hope you and all my other faithful readers can forgive me! Thanks for the kind support! :)**


	16. Sins of the Fathers

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Beck Oliver stood frozen just inside of his apartment. Standing opposite him was a tall, wiry man with a long, ceramic blade in his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective Oliver. Do me a favour and keep your hands away from your sidearm, yes?" The Ghost requested politely.

Beck glanced at the man, then down at the pistol tucked firmly into his side-holster.

"I can't say the pleasure's mutual." Beck scowled. "Who the hell are you?"

The Ghost took a step towards the Detective, the moonlight shining on him through the window to reveal a tight black vest around his waist… a vest covered in small, silver throwing knives.

"You can think of me as an instrument of God's will."

"Well, that's comforting." Beck stood his ground. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

"I believe _I _am asking the questions here. Tell me, Detective Oliver… do you believe in God?" The Ghost asked.

"No." Beck instantly replied. "Not that it's any business of yours."

"What a pity." The Ghost took another step forward. "It would offer you much comfort in these final moments if you did."

The tall man took another step towards the Detective. Beck's hand inched subtly towards his holster.

"Please, don't take me for an idiot." The Ghost chuckled, "Drop your gun to the floor, then kick it away." He ordered, taking another menacing step forward, leaving only a few feet between the two men.

Beck continued to stand his ground with an air of confidence.

"Whatever you say." He said, unholstering his gun and kicking it to the side. It slid under the bed.

"Good." The Ghost smiled, "I see you are a man of discipline. I'll make this quick." He promised.

He took one final step, now right in front of Beck. The stubborn Detective could feel the man's heavy breath on his face. The Ghost pressed the point of the blade under Beck's ribs.

"Would you like to say any words before you go, Detective?" The Ghost asked, looking the Detective dead in the eyes.

Seizing the moment of distraction, Beck reared back and smashed his forehead into the bridge of The Ghost's nose, causing him to stagger away in pain.

"Argghh!"

Continuing his assault, Beck dived forward in a low crouch, grabbing The Ghost around the midsection and tackling him, knocking the wind out of him. Beck drove him back, off his feet, and into a huge pile of cardboard boxes. They scattered, and clutter flew everywhere.

The Ghost's blade flew across the dusty apartment.

Beck scrambled away from the intruder on the floor. The Ghost scuttled after him, pulling another knife off of his vest. Quick to dig through a box of his ex-wife's possessions, Beck grabbed a picture frame and whipped around, smashing it violently into The Ghost's face. The glass of the picture frame shattered against his face, causing his to cry out in pain and stagger back.

"Argghh!" He yelled, pushing himself up off of the ground.

Beck pulled himself up to his feet, panting with exhaustion.

The two men squared off…

Very carefully, The Ghost pulled a shard of glass out of his cheek, causing a thin stream of blood to trickle down the side of his rough face. In the blink of an eye, he twirled a blade out of his vest with each hand.

"I tire of this, Detective Oliver. Let's end it." The Ghost said menacingly.

"I agree!" A familiar voice yelled from behind Beck.

The Detective spun around just in time to see Jade rushing towards him with her pistol drawn. Beck hit the floor hard just as Jade opened fire, the bullet whizzing over him.

"Aggghhh!" The Ghost screamed as the first bullet took off a small chunk of his left ear.

The man ducked low, dodging the second and third bullets. Seeing no other alternative, Jade charged at the man just as he hurled one of his knives at her. It glanced off the side of her shoulder, but she kept running, her momentum increasing, and as The Ghost readied his second knife to throw, Jade shoulder-checked him out of the second-story window.

"No!" Beck cried, watching the figure of his trusty partner vanish out into the darkness. He heard the sound of an impact on the fire escape, then on the hard asphalt ground below.

Beck sprinted to the window and looked out. Jade lay on the ground… but there was no sign of The Ghost, except for a shape limping off into the distance.

"Jade!" The Detective yelled down in terror.

Beck breathed a sigh of relief as Jade attempted to lift her battered and bruised body off of the ground.

"I'm… okay… just a little roughed up." She weakly called back to him.

"Don't move. _Don't move! _I'll be right down!" Beck ordered.

* * *

**The next morning…**

Beck walked into a hospital room, where Jade lay in a bed with a small bandage around her forehead, and a nurse stood a few feet away from the bed examining some paperwork on a clipboard.

"Hey there. How're you doing?" Beck asked with an apologetic frown.

"I'm fine. The man who attacked you took the brunt of the impact. The worst I've got is a mild concussion… not that these morons will believe me." Jade rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Miss, it's standard procedure to require a full MRI in the event of an injury like this." The nurse retaliated, trying to hold back her irritation. You might have a latent brain injury that could…"

"You don't have to lecture me on the importance of the procedure, I'm an FBI profiler for god's sake! I know all about the effects of brain injuries!" Jade snapped angrily, "Just get it over with, would you?"

The nurse rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. The feisty woman turned back to Beck.

"Sorry about that, Beck. Looks like I'm stuck here getting my brain scanned for the day. Any idea who the attacker actually was?" She inquired.

"André said he matches the profile of 'The Ghost', a Latin-American hitman. It looks like he was also behind that decapitation at the docks. And I know why he's after me." Beck finished with a sly smile.

Jade raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Remember that shootout we got into when we tried to arrest Dr. Rose? We killed Miguel Flores, the son of Esteban Flores… the drug kingpin of Northern California. This whole thing reeks of a revenge hit." The Detective explained.

"I'll admit, that was my first thought as well." Jade frowned. "Still, putting a hit out on a police officer… that's a major risk. And unless I'm mistaken, Esteban is known for playing things safe." She reasoned.

"I don't care how he _usually _plays it. We killed his first-born son! That could drive even the most careful man to murder."

"And Esteban would definitely have the means and the money to bring a world-class assassin into the United States…" Jade agreed grimly.

"Ah hell." Beck cursed.

"What is it?"

"I just realized… if there's a contract out on me, there's probably one on you, too." Beck answered.

"Which is all the more reason I need to be out there, rather than in this stupid hospital!" Jade complained.

Beck cracked a smile. "The last thing I need is you passing out from a concussion as we break down Esteban's door. Stay here and rest up. I'll make sure they leave a full security detail outside your door." He promised.

"Well…" Jade let out a defeated sigh. "I guess I do have all those case files from the Milbrook Institute to go over…"

"Exactly. You do that, and I'll take care of The Ghost."

"You sure you can handle it?" Jade asked.

"Oh, I've got this…"

* * *

Beck drove out of town to the Flores family estate. André sat in the passenger seat.

"So let me get this straight… you're just going to directly confront Esteban Flores about the hit?" André asked.

"That's the plan, yeah." Beck confirmed.

"I have a hard time believing the captain authorized you to do that." André said, sceptical.

"I'm helping you with your dock murder by questioning a possible suspect. I don't need her authority for that." The Detective reasoned.

"Well, aren't you clever? And what's the gameplan when we get there?"

"According to Jade, putting a hit on a cop isn't Esteban's style at all. That means he's reckless, and _that _means he's emotional." Beck nodded confidently. "If I push his buttons right, I should be able to get him to call off the hit."

"You're going to have to explain that." André asked, a confused expression plastered across his face.

"Look, Esteban might be full of grief and rage, but he still went through the effort of bringing in a highly trained assassin… one known for being discrete." Beck reasoned. "This was supposed to be a quiet hit. Brutal, maybe, but quiet, with nothing tracing back to the cartel. Even now, Esteban is covering himself. If I can shake him up and make him think we've got him made for this, he's not going to want to go through with the hit."

"Yeah, that's _one_ way things might go down."

"What's the other way?"

André shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, Esteban loses his cool when he sees you, grabs a machete off the mantelpiece, and takes a little off the top?" The dark man suggested, his tongue laced with sarcasm.

"That's what you're for, sharpshooter." Beck replied calmly, giving André a little nudge with his elbow.

"Oh, so that's why I'm here? To be your muscle?" The other Detective asked.

"Well you _did _volunteer to be my security detail." Beck pointed out, "Besides, I was hoping you could brief me on Esteban. You worked Narco for 10 years. You've got to know all about him."

"Well the Flores Cartel is based out of Trinirez, Mexico. It's the third most powerful drug cartel in Mexico… which makes it one of the most powerful criminal organizations in the world." André briefly turned to glance out of the passenger window, before continuing, "It's run by a man named Arcangel Flores. Not a whole lot is known about him…"

"Wait, wait, wait, Arcangel?" Beck interrupted in confusion, "I thought _Esteban _was the head of the cartel."

"Well, the Flores Cartel has begun branching out and setting up smaller operations in other countries. Esteban is the head of the San Francisco family." André explained.

"So he's small potatoes?" Beck simplified the information.

"In the grand scheme of things? Maybe. But in the Bay Area, he might as well be the Godfather. In just six years, he's expanded his operation to control nearly 75% of local drug flow."

"So he's smart." Beck said, slamming his foot down on the brake at a sudden red light.

"Oh, he's a goddamn genius. He trained as a trial lawyer before falling into the family business. He knows every legal loophole in the book, and a couple that aren't." André sighed, and continued, "We've been trying and failing to take him down for years. Then again, it might be easier now that you killed his son."

"Why's that?" Beck asked.

"Miguel Flores was Esteban's right-hand. The kid was smart, ambitious, and loyal. If Esteban needed a dirty job, Miguel was on it." André cracked a small smile. "Now that he's dead, it looks like Esteban's younger son, Carlito, is stepping into the role. But he's a hot-head who'd rather get into fights and hit the clubs. You got all that?"

Beck nodded in confirmation.

"Good. Glad to see your head's in the game."

"My head is _always _in the game, my friend." Beck joked before swerving dangerously to the left to avoid driving onto the sidewalk.

**Later…**

In the middle of an affluent neighborhood in Marin, on a street of upscale homes, sat a beautiful mansion with Spanish architecture. The two Detectives could only stare in admiration at building as they approached it.

"Maybe we're in the wrong line of work…" André mumbled.

The two reached the large front gate, and Beck reached forward to ring the buzzer. Immediately, a gruff male voice came out of the intercom.

"Who's there?"

"Detectives Beck Oliver and André Harris of the SFPD. We'd like to speak to you regarding a homicide." Beck answered calmly.

After a long pause that felt like forever, the gate slid open. The two Detectives strolled onto a sprawling estate. A well-dressed, gloomy looking man approached them.

"Esteban?" Beck asked.

"No. I'm his son." Carlito Flores replied, "And you're either crazy or stupid to show your face around here."

"I've always thought it was probably both." Beck joked to the angry man's face. "Is your father around? He's the one I need to speak to."

"He's away on business. And he wouldn't talk to you even if he _was _here." Carlito informed the Detective in a tone that resembled an angry pre-schooler.

"And why's that? He doesn't like cops?" Beck raised his eyebrows.

Carlito stepped forward so he was practically in Beck's face. André's hand twitched uncomfortably towards his holster.

"He wouldn't talk to you because you're the pathetic son-of-a-whore who killed my brother." The man told him through gritted teeth.

"So is that why he put a hit out on me?" Beck finally asked.

"Oh, is that what you came here to talk about, Detective? Did somebody rough you up?" Carlito asked in a patronizing tone of voice.

"Somebody killed a dock worker and tried to put a knife in my chest. That somebody is connected to your family."

"Ridiculous." Carlito scoffed, turning away from the Detective in impatience.

"Really? That's ridiculous? Your family has no connection to The Ghost?" Beck checked.

"Absolutely not." Carlito firmly responded, keeping his back to them.

Beck smiled. "The correct answer would have been 'Who the hell is The Ghost?'."

Carlito angrily turned around and stomped back towards Beck. André rested his hand on the top of his holster.

"You think you're so clever, don't you? You think you're so smart. Let me tell you something, Detective…"

"Carlito." A female voice interrupted from behind.

Carlito froze and stepped back as a beautiful Spanish woman with dark, straightened hair emerged from the villa and walked towards him, placing one hand on his shoulders. For one brief moment, Beck caught a glimpse of a tattoo in her wrist… a tattoo of a scorpion.

"I know you're furious, Carlito… but the last thing you want is to do something you'll regret." The woman said calmly.

Carlito breathed deeply, then stepped back, glaring at Beck with a cold, seething rage.

"You're right." Carlito admitted stubbornly, "I've got nothing to say to these swine."

André spoke up, "Lady, I don't know who you are, but…"

"My name is Esmeralda, but you can call me Esme. I am Carlito's… betrothed." She introduced herself.

"Well, Esme, I'm sure you think you're helping your fiancé-or-whatever, but this really is none of your concern." Beck told her.

"It _is _my concern, Detective." Esme insisted. "You come into this house in a time of tremendous grief, hurling unspeakable accusations, seeking to provoke… what is it you really want?"

Beck scowled. "I'm here to speak with Esteban on an official police matter."

"And do you really think of all the officers on the police force, that _you _are the one most appropriate to be here? After the tragedy you've inflicted on this family?" The woman asked.

"Tragedy…? Look, do you even know what Miguel did for a living? What he's been accused of?"

"I know he was a devoted son… a loyal brother… a caring husband… and a loving father." Her face darkened. "And I know that it was _you _who took him from this world, left his child without a father, and left his wife a widow."

"Yeah? And how many people did that scumbag take from this world?" Beck argued.

Carlito saw red. "Don't you call him that!" He yelled, stomping back into the argument.

"Take it easy, Carlito!" André warned him, gesturing towards his hand that rested firmly on his gun holster.

"_ENOUGH!_" A loud, booming voice yelled from the entrance through which André and Beck had entered minutes before.

Everyone went quiet, turning around to see Esteban Flores standing behind them, having just walked in. He stepped forward with a severe intensity. Something about him just made Beck's blood boil.

"Well, well, well. It's been several years since I've had an Oliver in my courtyard." Esteban said, staring intensely at the angry Detective. "You are the spitting image of your father."

"My father has nothing to do with this." Beck spat angrily in reply.

"And what, precisely, is _'this'_?"

"Esteban Flores…"

_You're under arrest!_

Beck held back the urge to say what he truly wanted to say.

"…we need to ask you some questions." The Detective concluded with a sigh. "You can keep your lawyer instincts at bay, Esteban. We'd just like some information."

"Information. I see. Perhaps you would be interested to know what I had for breakfast? Or maybe if I've seen any good movies lately? Ah! I know! You would like to know where I buy such handsome suits." The tall, older man mocked, brushing his suit down.

"Actually, we were hoping to talk to you about a murder that happened two nights ago at Chennowick Docks…" Beck informed him.

"Mmm. Such a shame. I really like talking about my suits." Esteban frowned. "Murder? Much less so."

"I was attacked in my apartment last night, Esteban. The man who did it matches the Interpol profile of The Ghost… an assassin known to work with your family. Are you claiming you don't know anything about that?" Beck asked in slight disbelief.

For one second, Esteban's cool façade broke, and a look of uncertainty crossed his face… then it vanished in a hard, cold glare.

"Tell me, Detectives. Am I being charged with anything?" Esteban changed the subject.

Beck hesitated, before letting out an internal sigh. "No."

"Do you have a warrant?"

"…No."

"Just as I thought." Esteban smiled triumphantly. "Now why don't you turn around and get out of my house… before I am forced to escalate the situation."

"Are you threatening me, Esteban?" Beck asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Of course not, Detective." Esteban assured him, stepping forward so he stood just a foot away from the Detective. He smelled of expensive cologne. "If I was threatening you, it would sound like this."

Esteban leaned forward and whispered into Beck's ear.

"If you come near me again, I won't just kill you and that pretty little partner of yours… I'll track down your family. Your mother, your sister, your little niece. And I'll slit _every _one of their throats myself."

A cold shiver ran down Beck's spine, and he did his best to remain composed and not give in to the temptation to punch the arrogant man in the face. It took tremendous restraint, but the Detective managed to hold himself back.

"Sorry, Esteban, what was that? I just couldn't hear you. You're going to have to say it louder." Beck put on a sly smile to hide his fury.

"Get out of my house, Detective. Now." Esteban ordered.

André and Beck wasted no time turning tail and walking out. As Beck passed the threshold, he glanced back at Esteban…

"Be seeing you." The unnerved Detective promised.

And the gate slid shut.

* * *

Beck walked silently up to his squad car… then angrily punched the frame.

"_Goddammit!_" He screamed, letting out the fury he had managed to hold in until this moment.

"Beck! Keep it together!" André shouted.

"Did you _hear _what he said?!" Beck shouted back.

"No. I didn't. He whispered it." André replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He was trying to provoke you!"

"Oh, he succeeded. And I'm not going to sleep easy until he's behind bars." Beck stated.

"Don't you see that's just what he was trying to do? Get under your skin?" André asked.

"Okay, so they got to me… but I got to them too. Did you catch what happened back there?"

"Why don't you illuminate me?"

"When I brought up The Ghost, Esteban looked shocked, just for a moment… but Carlito was cool as a cucumber. Esteban isn't the one who called in the hit. _Carlito did. _And he did it behind his father's back." Beck smiled.

"Yeah, and maybe that's true, but none of that information does us _any _good in court if we get out badges yanked for harassment!" André argued. "The only way to deal with them is if we take it calm and careful… if we put our emotions away and act rational!"

"André, those bastards are hiding a man who invaded my house, attacked me with a knife, and put Jade in the _hospital_. And now you want me to be rational?!"

"Yeah, I do! You shouldn't even be on this case in the first place, and I sure as hell shouldn't be helping you with it." André scowled. "Coming out here was a mistake."

Beck let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and a guilty frown crossed his face. "André…"

"I'm fine bending the rules if it means putting the bad guys behind bars… but that's _not _what you're doing here. You're on a vendetta. We'll get the guy who attacked you. But we're going to do it the right way. And that means chasing the evidence we have and leaving the Flores family alone." André concluded.

Beck exhaled deeply.

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry, I… I might've let it get out of hand." Beck admitted with a frown. "I let my emotions get the best of me. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it the right way. The smart way."

André's scowl faded away. "Good to hear you talking sense. Now, you ready to head back to the city?"

Beck turned away from André for a moment and gazed down the street. From somewhere in the distance, he could hear a train rumble along some tracks.

"Go on without me. I'll catch a cab back." The Detective answered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I got someone I need to visit. Don't worry about me."

"If you do something stupid…" André began to warn his friend.

"Relax. I'd never do that to you. I just need some time to cool off." Beck assured him.

"Alright. I trust you." André opened the squad car door and climbed in. "Don't make me regret it." And with those last words, André had shut the car door and driven off into the distance. Beck waited for the car to turn off and out of sight.

_I was hoping it wouldn't come to this… but right now, he's the best lead we've got._

* * *

**Who is Beck going to talk to? Will Jade recover soon? Is this the last we've seen of The Ghost? I guess we'll find out soon enough. ;) Remember to leave a review, it's always appreciated!**

**Bade (anonymous): You ended up being right! Jade _did _save him... but if he got attacked again, would she be well enough to save him again?**

**Dawnmist of RiverClan: Nope, I'm back! I wouldn't just leave you guys hanging like that! I was just waiting until I had enough free time to update as regularly as I'd like, which I have now. :)**

**karlaserna: You'll find out more about Diana soon enough... and yep, as you can see, Jade was in quite a bit of danger in this chapter! And that definitely won't be the last of it... ;)**


	17. Divine Intervention

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

San Quentin Maximum Security Prison.

Beck walked hesitantly into the visiting room, his eyes meeting the eyes of an older man in an orange jumpsuit from behind a pane of glass. Beck sat down opposite him and slowly lifted up the telephone.

"Dad."

"Well, well, well. The prodigal son returns." Jacob Oliver observed, his eyes narrowing.

"How long were you working on that line?" Beck asked lightheartedly.

"Oh, about four years give or take." Jacob frowned, "Started right around the last time you visited me."

"Was it that long? Well, what can I say? The time just _flies _by when you're not trapped behind prison bars." Beck replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Is that why you came here? To rub salt in the wound?" The older man asked.

Beck let out a small sigh. "No. I came here because… I'm in danger."

Jacob furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about, boy?"

"I'm in trouble with the cartels. The Flores family, to be specific." Beck informed his father.

"Is this some kind of a trick? Are you trying to milk me for information?" Jacob worried.

The Detective shook his head. "No trick. No ruse. I'm just coming to you as your son and asking for your help… because quite frankly, I don't have any other choice."

"And _what_ in the holy blue hell do you think I can do for you? I don't know if you've looked around, but I'm a little indisposed." Jacob reminded his son, casting a quick glance around the bare little room.

Beck leaned in close, right up against the glass, and spoke in a tense whisper, "Spare me the 'poor tired jailbird' routine. We both know you're still running your little union of crooked cops." Without giving his father a moment to react, Beck inhaled and continued, "We both know you're still connected to all the major criminal players in the Bay Area."

"And if that were true?" Jacob replied after a pause, "What good could I do for you?"

"The Flores family has brought in an assassin to kill me. And the guy came close. Really close. He put my partner in the hospital and almost put me in the morgue." Beck informed his father, "Now I know you've got eyes and ears everywhere. You must know something we can use to find this guy. Anything."

Jacob rubbed his tired face with his free hand, leaning back in his chair and sighing deeply.

"Let me tell you a story, boy. When you were six years old, just starting first grade, I got a call from your teacher that you'd been suspended. You remember this?"

"No." Beck frowned in confusion.

"Some older kid, maybe a fourth grader, was bullying one of your little friends. Took his lunch money or his comic books, something like that. Well, I guess you decided you weren't going to let this stand. So you ran up to this older boy, who must have been twice your size, and demanded he stop." Jacob paused to take in a heavy breath of air.

"Right…?" The Detective responded, prompting his father to continue.

"And when he didn't, you tackled him to the ground and beat the living snot out of him. Busted the little creep's skull. He needed six stitches." The old man let out a small chuckle, "I tried to explain to you, tell you that you were in a lot of trouble, that you couldn't act like that… and you just said, 'But Dad… I did the right thing. Just tell them I did the right thing.'"

"I did do the right thing." Beck insisted, remembering fully what his Dad was talking about. "Say what you will about what I did, I bet that bully never stole anyone's comic books ever again."

"Ha! I bet he didn't!" Jacob laughed, before the amused smile vanished into a hardened glare, "Of course, you're damn lucky he didn't suffer any real damage. Boy, if you'd hit his head just a little harder, I wouldn't have been able to bail you out."

"Look, I like reminiscing about my childhood as much as the next guy… but what exactly is your point?" Beck asked, attempting to veer the conversation back in the intended direction.

"My point is, you haven't changed one damn bit. You're still obsessed with the idea of being in the right… you still barrel ahead with your gut instead of listening to your brain…" Jacob scowled, "…and you still expect me to bail you out as soon as things go south."

The irritated Detective scoffed. "I should have known you'd be useless."

Beck got up out of his chair angrily, and went to hang up the phone when his father pressed his hand against the glass.

"Wait! Boy, wait. I do have something that might be able to help." Jacob told his son quickly, grabbing his attention, "I know this guy in immigration. He sometimes runs a little business on the side making fake passports, green cards, that kind of thing."

"Are you suggesting I flee the country?" Beck asked in bewilderment.

"Would you just shut up and listen?" Jacob requested of his impatient son, "Now this guy, he said he had to make a fake passport recently for the Flores family. They needed to get someone really important into the country… someone really secret."

"The assassin?" Beck asked, thinking he had put the pieces together.

"No, I don't think so." Jacob denied the theory, "Not unless the assassin was a young woman."

Beck attempted to take the confusing information in. "…Huh."

"That ring a bell?"

A small smile began to form on Beck's face. "Yeah. It does… thanks."

Beck hung up the phone and turned to leave, satisfied with the information he had received. Behind him, he could hear his dad stand up.

"I love you, boy." Jacob said.

"Yeah well… I guess you haven't changed much either."

And with that, Beck walked out.

* * *

A little while later, as Detective Beck Oliver drove back into San Francisco, his flipped on the speakerphone, calling up Cat.

"Beck! I heard what happened to you… I am _so _sorry!" Cat said worriedly.

"Don't worry about it. I have a habit of getting beat up. Listen, I need you to look something up for me… _discretely_." Beck requested.

"Oh, um, sure." Cat hesitated.

"I spoke with the Flores family today, and there was this young woman there… this woman who didn't fit in. I need you to search the databases for anything we have on the cartels to see if there's a match." Beck informed his colleague.

"Oh, sure… what can you tell me about her?" Cat asked, wheeling her chair across her desk to the computer.

"She said her name was Esmeralda, but she went by Esme. Looked to be in her mid-twenties, maybe younger. Five nine, black hair, beautiful features." Beck listed the information.

"Beck, that's really not enough for me to go on." Cat frowned, "Was there anything else distinguishing about her?"

"Well…" Beck's eyes suddenly lit up, "Yes. Yes, now that you mention it. She had a tattoo on her wrist. A tattoo of a scorpion."

"Huh… a scorpion?" Cat responded with interest, "I know that's a symbol used by a number of Latin American organizations… let's just see here…" Cat searched the databases for a match at lightning-fast speed, before smiling triumphantly. "Oh. Oh wow. I think I found your mystery girl, Beck."

* * *

**Three hours later…**

A dark alley hidden away in the sleazy neighborhood of Hunter's Point. Beck leaned against the graffiti-covered wall of a projects building. An expensive car pulled up at the end of the alley. Esteban Flores stepped out, flanked by Carlito Flores. Several bodyguards waited by the car.

Beck sighed to calm himself, then spoke up. "Esteban. Carlito. Glad you two could make it."

"You got some balls meeting us out here like this…" Carlito remarked with a scowl.

"Please. He's got snipers on every rook covering his back, and a hidden camera in every trashcan." Esteban contradicted his son's statement, his cold glare piercing through his narrowed eyes.

"No snipers and no cameras, Esteban." Beck promised, "I'm meeting you two to work out a deal."

"And why would we make a deal with the pic who murdered Miguel?" Carlito spat angrily.

"Because you don't have a choice." Beck answered, fighting to remain calm, "See, something bothered me at your villa today. We might be in San Francisco, but drug cartels aren't known for their progressive feminism. So why was Carlito letting his fiancée call all the shots?" The Detective questioned the men.

Esteban's face darkened, and for just one brief second, Beck could see a look of worry across Carlito's face. Without another word, Beck reached into his pocket and took out a printout with Esme's face at the top.

"Esmeralda Salazar. Daughter of Pablo Salazar, the cocaine kingpin of Colombia, and one hell of a player in the drug game. Now I got to thinking… what would she be doing here? And why would you want to keep it a secret?" Beck paused to let his words sink in, "And then I realized. She's here because you're planning a coup."

"You have _no _idea what you're talking about." Esteban remarked sternly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Actually, Esteban, I know _exactly _what I'm talking about. Your cousin, Arcangel, runs the major cartel out of Mexico, and he's got you playing big fish in a small pond out here. But you and your son… you've got ambition. You think you deserve the big seat. And you're going behind Arcangel's back to cut a deal with the Salazars. Esmeralda isn't here to marry your son, is she? She's here to work out a deal. What did you _really _offer Pablo? A pipeline through Mexico? A substantial cut of your profits?" Beck took in a deep breath, taking the worried faces of the father and son before him in his stride, and continued, "And in exchange… Pablo and Esmeralda help you plant a knife in Arcangel's back." Beck smiled triumphantly.

"You son of a…" Carlito began to curse, before being interrupted by his father.

"Shut your mouth." Esteban ordered harshly, "You've done enough to harm this family."

Carlito went quiet, a red blush forming on his cheeks. Esteban Flores stepped forward, his tall, mean, dark figure doing nothing to intimidate Beck.

"What, exactly, do you want?" Esteban asked in a noticeably softer tone.

"You tell me where The Ghost is hiding, and I don't call immigration and tell them you're illegally harbouring a drug-lord's daughter." Beck offered, "Now, I don't know Pablo Salazar… but I can't imagine he'll be too happy with you allowing his daughter to get locked up. Your little deal would be off…"

"And why the hell would we trust you?" Carlito interrupted, earning an angry glare from his father.

"Because I'm a man of my word. And I suspect your father is too." Beck calmly replied.

Esteban violently pulled Carlito over and the two began to whisper intensely. After a moment, Carlito grudgingly wrote an address on a piece of paper, folded it up and reluctantly handed it over to the Detective.

"I'll tell you one thing, Detective." Esteban said, "You are your father's son, after all."

Beck saw red. In a sudden, fleeting moment of inexplicable rage, Beck had to restrain with all his willpower from punching Esteban Flores square in the face. Fighting to keep his composure, Beck stepped back and smiled.

"Pleasure doing business with you two. Let's do it again some time." The Detective replied.

With a scowl, Esteban turned and walked off towards his car. Carlito glared at Beck for a moment, then turned and walked off, following his father. The two men climbed into their car and drove off. Beck watched them go, then unfolded the piece of paper Carlito handed to him, reading the address.

* * *

The Ghost sat, legs crossed, eyes shut it prayer, on the rooftop of a decrepit building in the Tenderloin. All of a sudden, the door behind him burst open and a group of officers ran through, guns drawn. Quick as a flash, The Ghost leapt to his feet, a knife suddenly in his hand.

"I don't think so!" Detective André Harris yelled, "Hands on your head! Put your hands on your head!"

"Hmm."

The Ghost stood up, considering this thoughtfully, then let the knife fall harmlessly to the floor. It clattered on the roof, and he placed his hands on his head. "I surrender."

"Just like that?" Officer Phil Morris puzzled, "Tough guy like you?"

"It must be God's will." The Ghost replied.

Several officers tackled the assassin, stripping him of his knives and cuffing him. André watched from the side.

"I can't believe we caught the creep!" Officer Anna Willis remarked, "It's damn lucky Detective Fallon received that anonymous tip."

André shook his head.

"I'd chalk it up to divine intervention."

* * *

**The next morning…**

Beck entered Jade's hospital room and smiled at the sight of her as she lay stubbornly in her bed.

"Hey, trooper. How's the noggin?" Beck joked, tapping his own head with his closed fist.

"Just fine, like I told these morons! All I had was a mild concussion!" Jade snapped angrily.

"So you're officially cleared to go?" Beck smiled.

Jade's nurse spoke up with a frown. "For god's sake, sir, we wouldn't keep her if we had to. She's been a nightmare!"

Quickly, the nurse bustled out as Beck sat down at Jade's side.

"I take it you don't like hospitals."

"I don't like excessive bureaucracy. I don't like a bloated, incompetent medical industry." Jade complained.

"Bull." Beck rejected the notion, "A smart, rational person like you doesn't chew out a nurse because they don't like the medical industry."

"Okay, okay, so maybe I don't like hospitals." Jade admitted after a reluctant pause. "They make me testy."

"Scared of needles?"

"Let's say I've spent too much time in them." Jade frowned, before changing the subject, "Anyway, I heard you and André took down that cartel assassin. Fast work, as always."

"We got a lucky tip. That's all." Beck replied, "The Feds have already taken him into custody. It looks like he's going to get extradited to Mexico to stand trial for five murders there. I'd feel better if we were trying him here… but either way, he's not gonna bother us anymore." Beck concluded, shaking his head.

"Well, that's good to hear, anyway." Jade agreed, looking at the worn Detective carefully, "Beck… are you okay? It seems like something's bothering you."

"I-" Beck stuttered, before letting out a heavy sigh, "It's about my father."

"Your dad?" Jade's ears pricked up in interest.

"I went to see him yesterday. For the first time in four years. I... I didn't have a choice." Beck told her.

Jade frowned in confusion. "I don't follow."

"It doesn't matter. The point is, he said some things… the way he acted… it made me think. He took police corruption and turned it into organized crime, making his own little mob within the force. But everything he did, every line he crossed, he thought he was doing the right thing. He still does." Beck trembled, "So if… if I got to that point… the point where I had the choice between doing what I really believe was right, and sticking to the law… what choice would I make? Because right now, I'm not sure he and I are that different."

Jade leaned forward and gently patted the worried man's arm.

"Beck, I don't know the details of your father's life. But I know that you're a good man. I trust that if you did something because you believed it was the right thing… then it would be the right thing." Jade comforted her partner.

"I'm not sure you answered my question…" Beck chuckled, "…but you did make me feel better."

Jade smiled for what must have been the first time in her three days in the hospital. "It's the background in psychiatry."

"Speaking of which, any breaks in the files from Millbrook?" Beck asked.

"Well, I looked into those three names we got from that patient… Carl Voyer, Kenneth Gault and Jonah Graves. All patients released under the Second Chance Initiative. All three were younger offenders booked into Millbrook… and all three names came up cold after their release."

"Of course they would. The Initiative offers these kids new identities." Beck nodded in understanding.

"And they did a solid job with it." Jade scowled, "There's nothing at all in the FBI database to tell me who they are now. Our only lead is their fingerprints, which were in the Millbrook files. Kenneth Gault is an enigma… he's keeping himself completely under the radar. Carl Voyer, on the other hand, was a match. He prints are identical to those of a Patrick Wottace, a vagrant found dead in the Minneapolis sewer system three years ago."

"Well these aren't the greatest of leads." Beck observed dryly.

"The break is the third name. Jonah Graves' fingerprints match those of Ramsey Brand, now a firefighter with the San Francisco Fire Department." Jade told him with a smile.

"…So?"

"So… Jonah Graves was institutionalized for _pyromania_." Jade pointed out.

"That's not much…" Beck admitted.

"But it _is _a start. And right now, that's all we've got."

* * *

**One night ago…**

The gate to the Flores estate plaza slid open. Esteban and Carlito walked in, steeped in an angry silence. As the gate slid shut behind them, Carlito turned to say something to his father… and was met with a swift backhand across the face.

"Arggh!"

Esteban grabbed Carlito by the shirt and slammed him against the wall.

"Do you see now? Do you see what your impulsiveness has done? _Do you see what bringing The Ghost in has done?!_" Esteban snapped in rage at his stubborn son.

"Don't put this on me! You're the one that made a deal with the bastard that killed Miguel!" Carlito retorted.

"I made a deal because you left me no choice! You made us weak and vulnerable! And now, now of all times! You could have ruined everything we've been working for!" Esteban yelled.

"I was avenging Miguel." Carlito argued with a stubborn expression on his face, "You, you don't even care!" He accused his father.

Esteban jabbed Carlito in the gut, leaving him gasping for air.

"Of course I care. Every single second of every day, my heart breaks for Miguel. I will avenge him. But I'm going to do it right. You understand?" The angry father defended himself.

Esteban stepped back as Carlito slumped to the ground.

"You ever pull a stunt like this again, and you'll be spending a lot more time with your brother."

Esteban walked off. Carlito lay against the wall, rubbing his neck… and a moment later, Esmeralda Salazar stepped out of the shadows.

"Esme, I…" Carlito began to apologize.

"Shh. Shh. I heard it all." Esme interrupted him, walking over and sitting next to the battered man. "You did the right thing. Understand? You did the right thing. Blood demands blood. Your father is a good man, but he is too focused on money, too driven by power." Esme leaned forward and placed her palm on Carlito's chest, "A strong leader must have a strong heart, as well as a strong brain."

"Beck Oliver still lives. Miguel is still dead. And now my father will watch every move I make." Carlito frowned.

"Your father might trust you less…" Esme began to reply, as Carlito leaned over and sunk into her arms, "…but soon enough, what he thinks won't matter."

* * *

**There we go! I continue to thank you all for all the support and reviews, it's the reason I'm still updating this story! So the secrets hidden deep within the Flores family are beginning to unravel... how will this end? **

**Dawnmist of RiverClan: Nope, this is the first chapter to actually feature Beck's father, and other than a few passing references to him, there was nothing about him in the earlier chapters. And the connection is going to unravel in time, so I hope you stick around to find out! :)**

**teddybear81: Don't worry, the story is definitely not ending any time soon! As for how long I'll be regularly updating until I take another break... who can say? I'll update for as long as I have free time to write!**

**green aura: I know, and I really regret not announcing that since the beginning. Thankfully, people didn't seem to mind that Cassandra spoiled it, and some even commented that it was a great plot twist anyway that they would have never seen coming. And Brian Resler got the name Robbie Shapiro because the Millbrook Mental Institute gives it's patients completely new identities when they are free to leave, as Jade explained at the end of this chapter.**

**So yeah! Continue to leave those reviews, your feedback is one of the most interesting things about this to me!**


	18. Catching Fire

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

April Ruane sat on her white leather couch, chatting on the phone with her good friend Shirley.

"Okay, so I'll bring the boys over after dinner tonight, and they'll go with you to soccer practice tomorrow morning, and…" April said down the phone, pausing as she smelled something odd in the air… a faint tinge of burning.

Letting out a short cough, April turned her attention back to the woman on the other side of the phone. "Excuse me, Shirley. I think I smell smoke…" With her free hand, April brushed her long blonde hair aside as she listened to Shirley's reply, "Oh no, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Jim's making enchiladas, and you know how _that_ always turns out." April joked, "I swear, how hard is it just to fry up some meat? One of these days, I'm going to…"

April sniffed the air. The smell of burning was much stronger… and smoke, too much smoke, billowed in from the other room. Letting out two coughs in quick succession, April spoke once more.

"Actually, I do think I'd better check on him…" She frowned.

Before April even had the chance to get up from the couch, she heard the terrifying sound from deep in the house of her sons screaming. Horror struck her to the core as she jumped up off the couch, dropping the phone on the floor.

"Colin, Chris? Are you…?!" She yelled after them.

The panicked mother raced to the door to the smoky room, and seized the handle, throwing open the door, and immediately yanking her hand away as agonizing pain shot through it, prompting her to let out a scream.

"Agghh! Hot!" April cried, looking up from her injured hand and into the room. In that moment, pain vanished into despair as April stared into the floor-to-ceiling orange flames raging on the other side of the doorway, blocking her path.

Then the smoke hit her full force. April coughed heavily as she threw herself down on her hands and knees to avoid inhaling any more of the thick, black cloud.

_But I'm still trapped…_

Suddenly, April heard a crack from overhead. She looked up just in time to see her ceiling rafter come crashing down, pinning her beneath it's massive weight.

"Aggghhh! My legs!" The blonde woman screamed.

She was trapped under the huge construction, unable to move her legs.

"Help! _HELP!_" She screamed with all her strength.

Smoke filled her lungs as she inhaled…

"H-help… me…" She whimpered, tears streaking down her delicate face.

Resigned to her fate, April looked up, seeing a tall figure step through the flames. The figure kneeled down beside her.

"April Ruane?" The Firefighter asked.

"Yes, thank you…" April let out a cough, "Are my boys alright?"

The dark man frowned, "I'm sorry, April. They didn't make it. Only one can be spared…"

As the man freed April and lifted her into his arms, she began to lose consciousness, managing to let out but a few soft whispers.

"Wait… what does… what does that mean? What about my family?"

Then April Ruane passed out.

* * *

Special Agent Jade West pulled her car to a stop at the scene of a recently extinguished house fire. She took a moment to just stare at the scene, alongside her partner, Detective Beck Oliver. The air was thick with smoke and steam. Emergency response teams busied about.

"This is the place." Beck confirmed, "You sure you want to do this now? I mean, this is your first day back on the job since being in the hospital, and…"

"Beck, you don't need to baby me. I'm fine." Jade scowled, "Besides, what other choice do we have? According to our investigation, the Second Chance Initiative allowed for the release of four psychiatric patients from the Millbrook Institute: Robbie Shapiro, Kenneth Gault, Carl Voyer and Jonah Graves." She listed, her expression softening.

"Right, and Kenneth Gault and Carl Voyer are dead ends, the Maskmaker's dead... I get all that. But what if you're wrong?" Beck tested the agent.

"Wrong about what?" She replied.

"We know that the Second Chance Initiative worked with messed-up kids, but we've got no evidence that proves Jonah Graves is anything like Robbie. What if he's just genuinely rehabilitated?" The Detective suggested.

"I find that hard to believe, given his occupation." Jade rejected the theory with a piercing glare, "The Second Chance Initiative serves to help children who've suffered from psychological disorders break with their past… it's part of why the children are given new identities. In this case, Jonah Graves became Ramsey Brand." Jade reminded him.

"Okay, and…?"

"_And _Ramsey Brand used his fabricated life history to take a position with the San Francisco Fire Department. It might just be me, but that seems like a provocative career choice for a supposedly reformed _pyromaniac_." Jade frowned.

"Provocative, maybe. But _maybe _that's all it is." Beck pointed out, opening the passenger's side door and glancing back at the dark-haired woman, "So we're agreed… until we know more, we're just going to _talk, _right?" He checked.

Jade let out a small groan. "Uggh. Fine."

* * *

Beck and Jade crossed through the smoldering rubble, stepping aside as EMTs carted three bagged bodies to a nearby hearse.

"Order up. Extra crispy." Officer Joe Bartaugh joked as he transported the bodies.

"Watch it, officer. That's too loud." Jade scowled.

Joe winced, "Damn… you heard that, huh?"

"Yes, I did." Jade replied coldly, "Don't get me wrong, I get that gallows humor can be an important way of coping… but when you're in public, you're the face of the law enforcement.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Joe frowned.

"Officer, can you tell us what happened?" Beck requested.

"From what I hear, the jury's still out on the cause of the fire, but the marshal is leaning toward electrical." The chubby officer informed the Detective.

Jade looked down to a charred photograph at her feet. It showed a man, a woman and two young children.

"This was a family residence?" Jade frowned.

"Yeah." Joe sighed, "Emphasis on _was_. The father and the two kids didn't make it… the mother, April Ruane, survived. She's over there, crying her eyes out..." He said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the distraught woman.

"Why… why me and not them…?" April cried to herself, the words almost lost in heavy streams of tears.

"Don't try to question it, ma'am." A tall, dark firefighter told her, "Fire isn't rational… it just takes and takes."

Joe looked down at his feet before turning back to the Detective, a sorrowful frown plastered on his face. "Look, Detective, I know what I said before and how that sounded, but… nobody in the world deserves to lose their family like this."

"No kidding." Beck agreed softly.

Joe turned to walk away when Jade leaned forward and grabbed his arm.

"Officer, wait… one last question. We're looking for a firefighter who goes by the name of Ramsey Brand? Is he here?" Jade inquired.

"Jade, cops and hose wranglers are like oil and water." Beck furrowed his eyebrows, "No way does this kid…"

"Actually, Detective, I do know _of _him." The pale officer interrupted, "He ran into the burning house and hauled the lady out. He's the one talking to April now."

Jade hesitated in confusion and surprise. "…You're saying Ramsey Brand _saved _someone?"

"Well yeah, I mean, I figured that's why you wanted to speak with him." Joe shrugged.

"Yeah, something like that." Beck nodded, flashing Jade an askew glance as Joe smiled and walked away, "Risking his neck to save some lady? Gotta say, guy doesn't sound too much like Robbie." The Detective observed.

"Yeah, but you're forgetting that Robbie closed cases. He may've been a criminal, but Robbie wouldn't have been able to maintain his cover as a forensics technician if he hadn't done his job well. He helped close hundreds, if not thousands of cases." Jade argued.

"All of which are going to have to be thrown out or re-reviewed now that we know he deliberately tampered with evidence…" Beck realized with a heavy sigh.

"That's not the point."

"Huh, I guess I didn't think about it that way…" Beck frowned, following Jade as she walked over to Ramsey and April.

"No, please… don't make me leave…" April sobbed.

"You have to, ma'am." Ramsey Brand frowned, "You need to go to the hospital to get checked out."

"Okay… okay… but my family…?" April began to ask.

"Someone will get back to you with the arrangements." Ramsey promised, "Right now, it's time for you to take care of yourself."

As April was placed by medical officers into an ambulance, Ramsey turned to the pair.

"Technician Ramsey Brand?" Jade asked.

"Yeah?" The Firefighter answered with a cold glare.

"I'm Agent Jade West, and this is Detective Beck Oliver. If you don't mind, we'd like to ask you a few questions…" Jade requested.

"…Yeah, well, if you didn't notice, we're a little busy around here, so…" Ramsey sarcastically responded.

"Come on… big hero like you, I'm sure you can spare a _minute_." Beck said.

"Look, I'm just doing my job." Ramsey defended himself.

Beck instinctively let his hand brush up against his handcuffs.

"Yeah, and so are we." Beck responded with an irritated frown, "Now, are you going to cooperate, or do we have this conversation elsewhere?"

Ramsey sighed. "What is it you want to know?"

"Ramsey, we want to ask you about Jonah Graves." Jade informed him.

The Firefighter froze.

"Rings a bell, doesn't it?" Jade prompted.

"That… that's a name I haven't heard in a long time…" Ramsey frowned.

At that moment, a smarmy man in a sharp suit walked up.

"Ramsey Brand! There's the hero firefighter the mayor wants to speak with!" The man cried joyfully.

Beck gritted his teeth and scowled.

"Seth. I thought I smelled something. Jade, I don't believe you've had the displeasure. This is Deputy Mayor Seth Holland." Beck introduced the man.

"Agent Jade West. Nice to meet you." Jade introduced herself, offering a hand out, which Seth happily shook.

"You could learn a thing or two about manners from your new partner, Beck." Seth smiled patronizingly.

"And you could leech a thing or two about being a blood-sucking parasite!" Beck smiled back, glaring daggers all the while.

"Beck…" Jade warned her partner with a frown.

"You'll have to excuse my old friend, Agent." Seth told her, "He's still carrying a grudge from back when I was a defense attorney. Now, I hate to interrupt whatever it was you three were talking about, but I need to pow-wow with Ramsey." Seth said, moving to escort Ramsey away.

Beck grabbed him violently by the arm. "Not so fast, Seth."

"Ramsey, level with me. Are these two vultures harassing you?" Seth asked the dark man.

"No, I… it's nothing like that." Ramsey assured him.

"You sound nervous. You're not in any trouble, are you?" The Deputy checked.

"Nothing like that." Jade interrupted, "Mr. Brand has agreed to assist us with an open investigation."

"Okay, I see…" Seth nodded with a subtle frown, "Just be sure to take care of my boy. Lots of folks are going to want a piece of him."

* * *

Ramsey Brand stewed silently in the interrogation room as Beck and Jade watched him from behind the pane of one-way glass.

"I know you want answers, Jade, but you'll need to go easy on him. All we have right now is a tenuous connection to the Millbrook Institute." Beck reminded her.

"Then it's up to me to get more, isn't it?" Jade replied in a determined tone. She entered the interrogation room, layed out files on the table and slid them over to Ramsey, "Ramsey Brand, you changed your name from Jonah Graves, is that correct?" The agent asked.

"Yeah… yeah, that's right." Ramsey confirmed after a pause.

"And why'd you do that?" Jade probed further.

"I didn't… I mean, it wasn't my idea to do it. The thing is, I got into trouble as a kid, and the place I ended up… the Millbrook Institute… the doctor there suggested I pick a new name to symbolize turning over a new leaf. You know, because of my history…" Ramsey admitted.

Jade nodded. "Mhmm, and that would be your history of pyromania?"

"Yeah, I'll admit it." Ramsey instantly replied, "I used to play with matches as a kid. Gasoline, torches, that kind of thing. Only this one time, I was in the basement, and it got out of hand…" Ramsey paused to take in a deep breath and shook his head vigorously before continuing, "Watching my home burn… my mother, my father, my little brother…" Ramsey placed his face in his hands and began to sob, failing to speak another word.

Jade raised an eyebrow, before glancing back to the pane of glass that Beck was on the other side of and shaking her head no. Beck sighed from outside the room.

_Sonuva… Jade's right. This guy's good, but he's definitely faking it…_

"Try to keep it together, Ramsey. I've got more questions for you." Jade told him emotionlessly, "Since your release from Millbrook Institute, have you been contacted by any third parties interested in your psychological condition?"

"You mean doctors? I had some follow-ups at the beginning, but…"

"I mean, a _benefactor_." Jade interrupted, "Someone with a desire to see you hone your craft."

"My… craft?" Ramsey asked in bewilderment.

"You know what I'm talking about, Ramsey." Jade furrowed her eyebrows, "You can't deny what you are."

Ramsey glanced uneasily down at the file photos of incinerated corpses, and his pupils gleamed like hot coals.

"You think you understand me, Agent? That night when my family died, do you know what I learned?" Ramsey asked, then continued without waiting for an answer, "I learned that fire is _insatiable_. It can be delayed, but it won't be denied… it won't stop until everyone it touched has been _devoured_."

The door to the interrogation room burst open without warning.

"Detective Oliver. Agent West. I want you both in my office. _Now_." Captain Tori Vega demanded angrily.

* * *

Tori led Beck and Jade into her office and slammed the door behind her. Deputy Mayor Seth Holland sat on the couch, wearing a smug grin.

"Hello again." He greeted the pair.

"Seth. Short time, not enough no see." Beck retorted sharply.

"Cool it, Beck." Tori ordered, "The Deputy Mayor here tells me you hauled a hero firefighter away from a burning building this morning?"

Beck stepped forward. "Okay, first off, it wasn't so much 'hauled away' as 'escorted brusquely'. And second, the fire was already put out, so we're talking 'smoldering' at best." He defended himself.

"I didn't bring you here to play semantics, Detective." Tori frowned, "You _know _what I mean."

"Beck, let me handle this." Jade said, pushing him back with an outstretched arm. "Captain, we needed to speak with Technician Brand regarding an open investigation."

"Okay? And who are you investigating exactly…?" Seth asked sceptically.

"Well, we're not at liberty to…"

"Not at liberty to what?" Seth interrupted the FBI agent.

"Uh, Captain? Could you…?" Beck requested for his superior's help.

Tori pursed her lips, letting her decision hang for a moment, before turning to Seth.

"I apologize, Mr. Deputy. It's departmental policy to keep case information confidential until a primary suspect is determined. You'll have to check back." The Captain informed the smug man.

"Thank you, Captain." Jade said coldly.

"Okay, you three want to string me along? _Fine_." The Deputy complained, "But know this… Ramsey Brand is the firefighter who charged into a burning building and saved the life of a taxpayer. And tomorrow morning, his face is going to be plastered on the front page of every newspaper. This is a _win _the city badly needs, and the mayor is _not _going to let you take a crap on it." Seth concluded, taking the irate expressions of the other three in his stride.

"Thank you, Mr. Deputy." Tori interrupted loudly, "I believe you've made the mayor's position abundantly clear."

"Right. That's it then. Thank you, Captain… I trust you'll take care of this." Seth frowned before pushing himself up off the couch and striding out of the office.

"Captain." Beck grabbed his superior's attention, "I just wanted to say I appreciate you backing our play there, and we…"

"Not another word, Detective." Tori ordered sternly, "I want Ramsey Brand released from custody _immediately_."

Jade frowned in disappointment. "But, Captain…"

"Don't start with me, Agent West. You think I didn't hear about your little joyride to the Millbrook Institute?" Tori turned to the dark-haired woman. Jade winced, as the Captain turned back to Beck, "And you, Detective Oliver, you think I didn't hear about you kicking a hornet's nest under the Flores cartel? Look close. This is me telling you…" Tori leaned in close, narrowing her eyes angrily, "Fly right, or crash and burn."

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

"Well, Ramsey Brand was just released." Beck frowned.

"So that's it then." Jade sighed defeatedly.

"Not exactly." Beck let on a small smile, "I pulled a few strings with a buddy of mine in dispatch and got a temporary tail placed on him."

"Well I guess that's at least _something_." Jade nodded.

Beck paused, about to speak.

"Beck, what is it?" Jade asked.

"Jade, I hate to do this, but I gotta ask… guy's creepy, to be sure… and I know he was holding something back in the interview… but isn't there even a _small _chance that this guy is who he claims to be… a kid with a tragic past who turned over a new leaf?" Beck asked with a grim frown.

"All I can tell you is what I feel." Jade replied.

Beck raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? You…?"

"Look, I can't explain it… but something about that guy just doesn't add up." Jade admitted.

"Heh… that's great." Beck let out a small chuckle.

"It is?"

"Yeah, look at you." Beck said, "Going from the gut. Trusting your _mojo_." The Detective teased his partner, who let out an involuntary chuckle. "Now think back. What was it that rubbed you the wrong way?"

"Specifically?" Jade asked, before continuing, "In the interview, Ramsey said, 'Fire can be _delayed_'."

"Yeah, now that you mention it, that was pretty off." Beck quickly interrupted, "Firebugs are usually all about the quick fix… what do you think he meant by it?" The man asked.

"I'm not quite sure yet, but I _know _it's important." Jade answered.

Her cell phone rang. She glanced awkwardly at Beck.

"Go ahead and take it. I'll run down to the lab and see if the geeks pulled up anything." Beck suggested, turning and walking away.

Jade answered her phone.

"Mom?" Jade puzzled, having checked the caller ID, "Now's really not a good time. I'm at work and…"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I called the hotel in Vegas your sister said she was staying at, and they had no record of her checking in." The elderly woman informed her.

"Okay, well… well maybe she got the name of the place wrong." Jade frowned.

"You think I didn't call around?" Jade's mom asked, her tone sharpening, "I… I was calling to ask if you might be willing to look into it."

The Special Agent sighed. "Mom, you know that's against the rules."

"Of course I know that! But do you think I would be asking if it weren't serious?" The lady snapped down the phone.

"We've been over this." Jade responded coolly.

"Jade, this is your _mother_. And I'm telling you I'm concerned about your _sister_. No child of mine would just sit idly by…" The woman spoke angrily.

"Fine… fine." Jade interrupted her mother's rant, "I'll call in some favors, but I'm _not _breaking any laws." She insisted.

"Of course, you're not." Anita West sighed, "You never met an 'i' you didn't dot, and your sister never met a 't' she didn't cross out and replace with a letter she made up."

"Just tell me the name of the place she said she was staying." Jade asked of her mother.

"In the message, she said you'd know it. Something about making out with a cute boy there…" Anita mentioned with an air of caution.

"Mom, when Diana and I went to Vegas together…" Jade began to explain in an embarrassed tone when Beck raced over.

"Hey! You've got to hear this!" He yelled to her.

"Mom, I'll look into this, but I've got to go now. Love you." Jade hung up the phone before her mother got the chance to say goodbye.

"Beck, what's the rush? You're the one who said I should take the call." Jade complained.

"Yeah, yeah, I know what I said, but that was before the techs found something. Come on." Beck urged her.

The Detective turned and raced through the station with Jade in pursuit. The pair entered the crime lab, finding Cat and Kai inside manipulating data on large, high-resolution displays.

"Kai, Cat, you two said you had something for us?" Beck mentioned.

"Well, we _do_… but you should know it wasn't easy." Cat replied with a proud smile, "When you first asked us to look into Ramsey Brand, we had no idea where to begin…"

"Do you have _any _idea how many emergency calls the SFPD has to handle each year?" Kai said.

"I don't know, probably around 250,000?" Jade guessed.

"Roughly that, yeah. And given that there are only 800,000 actual residents in the city… statistically, it's like one in four people in San Francisco spontaneously burst into flames each year!" Kai pointed out with an enthusiastic smile.

"Kai, I thought you said you had something _useful_…" Beck groaned.

"Oh, uh, we do… Cat?" Kai stuttered.

"Anyway, given the scope, we decided to limit the focus to calls Ramsey personally responded to… and it turns out that three house fires Ramsey 'heroically' ran into were preceded by other, smaller arson fires in outlying areas of the city." Cat informed the confused pair.

"Okay, so you're suggesting that since there were _two _major fires going simultaneously, the fire department's response was stretched thin?" Beck nodded.

"Hmm, that sounds familiar." Jade wondered out loud.

Kai let out a chuckle. "Heh. Sexy _and _smart. Me likey."

"Ew, gross." Cat repulsed in disgust.

"Er, what I meant to say is that you're absolutely correct, Agent West…" Kai corrected himself, his eyes shifting to just about anywhere else in the lab.

"Well, duh." Jade smiled proudly.

"In Los Angeles in the 1980s and 1990s, the Pillow Pyro also used distraction fires to maximize the destruction of his primary targets. Specifically, he used timed incendiary devices, which was how he was able to be in two places at the same time. And just like our guy, his acts of arson were initially ruled to be electrical fires." Kai recited the information.

"Yeah, but _that _guy didn't run headlong into the flames and pull people out." Beck pointed out with a frown.

"So maybe he's a glory seeker? Starting fires for the attention?" Kai theorized.

"Ooh, like Herostratus!"

Beck, Jade and Kai turned and stared in bewilderment at Cat.

"You know… Herostratus? Burned down the Temple at Ephesus to have his name immortalized in history?" Cat blabbered on, "Did _none _of you study Greek history?"

The other three stared for a silent moment, before Beck pulled himself back into reality and turned to the other two.

"Look, even if our guy didn't do it for the glory, it still bought him a lot of political cover. I mean, think about it… this guy admitted to toasting his whole family back when he was a kid, and the mayor's office _still_ has his back… it's insane!" The Detective complained.

"Actually, it might be worse than that." Cat interrupted him softly.

"…Worse?" Jade asked after a worried pause.

"Well, you know I get a _little _hyper-focused sometimes… and this case was really bothering me because…" Cat let out a heavy sigh before continuing, "…because of the connection to Robbie. So, just to be thorough, I did a follow-up on everyone involved in the fires… you know, police officers, EMTs, survivors…"

Beck frowned apologetically. "Cat, that's got to be hundreds of names…"

"Three hundred and twelve names, to be exact, but I think I found something." Cat told him, "In each of the fires, three out of four members of a family died."

"Okay, that makes sense… we know that serial killers seek to replicate their first crime. And we know that Ramsey's first fire killed his father, mother, and brother. Ramsey could be saving people in order to precisely replicate the original death toll." Jade theorized.

"Yes, maybe… but these new fires have an added twist." Kai frowned.

"In each of them, the one surviving family member died months later of an apparent suicide." Cat filled in the blanks.

Beck trembled. "You're saying whole families are being wiped out and nobody noticed?"

"Of course no one noticed." Jade interrupted, "Ramsey knew exactly what we'd look for… and what we'd miss. No one put it together because of the circumstances. I mean, suicide can be difficult to determine in the best of cases, and for survivors of a traumatic event…" Jade's expression darkened, "Well, it's called 'survivor's guilt' for a reason, Beck. A lot of people can't find the strength to continue on." The woman turned to Cat, "Anyway, how did these people die?"

"All three victims hung themselves." Cat frowned, "But only _after _setting their houses on fire."

Panic shot through every bone in Beck's body.

"Ah hell." The Detective cursed in reaction.

* * *

Jade sped down hilly San Francisco streets like a maniac, Beck sat by her side with a determined expression on his face. Jade slammed her palm on the steering wheel.

"_Damn!" _Jade cursed,_ "_That arrogant prick… he practically confessed to me, and I didn't see it… he said, 'Fire can be delayed, but it won't be denied'… _this _is what he was talking about!" The Agent scowled, more angry at herself for not figuring it out earlier than she was at Ramsey Brand for the crime itself, "He's been pulling people out of fires, and then he's been sending them back!"

"I know you're upset, Jade, but we're almost there." Beck attempted to reassure his partner, "Take a left up ahead." He directed her, grabbing his phone and answering an incoming call. "Wait… _what?! _Yes, I definitely want you to call it in!" Beck said to whoever was on the other side of the conversation, and flipped his phone shut.

"Beck, what happened?" Jade asked.

"Remember the tail I put on Ramsey? Well they went and lost him." Beck let out a frustrated sigh.

"I was afraid this would happen. Ramsey knows we're onto him, so he's rushing the kill!" Jade frowned as she reached the crowded intersection, whipping her car around idling vehicles and veering left.

Beck let out a slight chuckle. "Heh. Nice driving, McQueen…"

"No problem." Jade shrugged off the praise.

* * *

A few turns later, and Jade pulled up outside a nice, sub-urban home.

"Okay, according to the hospital, April Ruane is staying here in the family's second house." Beck informed her.

"The lights are off, and the blinds are drawn." Jade observed, "Could be she went out for the evening…"

From inside the house, the two heard a piercing scream ring through the air.

"Or _not_." Beck replied, jumping out of the car.

Jade followed suit as the two ran up to the front door of the house. Beck reared back and kicked the door off it's hinges. Gun drawn, Jade swung inside…

"Jade, _look out!_" Beck yelled from behind.

Jade turned just in time to see a shadowy figure coming at her with a fireman's axe, preparing for a swing. Thinking fast, the Special Agent ducked safely beneath the axe, and it embedded itself in the door frame with a loud thunk.

"…That was close." Jade whispered to herself in fright.

Beck fired at the shadowy figure as it fled deeper into the dark, otherwise-empty house. He cursed as his bullets missed the attacker. Jade pulled herself up off of her feet.

"Come on! He went this way!" She yelled, rushing in the direction the intruder fled in, before Beck stopped dead in his tracks. Jade spun around in confusion, "Beck, what are you doing?!"

"Smell that?" Beck asked, sniffing the air.

Jade sniffed the air in response, and immediately picked up the scent her partner was talking about.

"_Gas._" She confirmed, her feet sloshing across the fuel-soaked carpet, "It's everywhere…" She observed in fright.

A muffled scream from behind a closed bedroom door.

"On the count of… one, two, three…" Beck whispered, oh-so-slowly opening the bedroom door.

Jade recoiled in shock at what awaited the pair inside.

"Oh my god… Beck…" She whispered.

Inside, April Ruane stood tippy-toe on a wobbly chair. She had a noose around her neck, and her wrists were bound with cotton gauze. Nearby, an overturned fuel canister spilled out onto the beige bedroom floor.

"Please… please help me…" April whimpered in terror. "I didn't know… what he was going to do… he was the man who rescued me from the fire… when he came to the door…" The blonde woman swallowed back the lump in her throat, "I thought he had news about my family… please… I don't want to die.."

"It's okay, ma'am… try not to move." Jade comforted the trembling lady.

Beck leaned over and whispered to Jade, "If Ramsey already set up the suicide angle, I guarantee he's prepped this place to burn. What do we do?"

"Beck, you should help her down." Jade decided.

"Good call. I'm stronger, so if it comes down to it, I can support her weight. You go after Ramsey." Beck agreed.

Jade nodded, turning to the hallway and leaving Beck with April. She rounded the corner just in time to see Ramsey Brand move towards the exit. He walked backwards, pouring a trail of gasoline from a gas can.

Deciding against a direct confrontation, Jade raced out of the side door and cut around the house…

Where Ramsey stood with an unlit road flare in his hand.

"_No!_" Jade cried out in horror, charging up and tackling Ramsey like a linebacker before he could crack the flare. The two slammed into the wall, knocking the wind out of Ramsey.

"Oof!" He coughed, shoving Jade back roughly, "Damn… for a girl, you really know how to hit."

"Actually, I'm just getting warmed up…" Jade scowled, punching Ramsey square in the jaw quicker than he could possibly have defended against.

Ramsey dropped to one knee.

"Agghh… guess you weren't kidding." Ramsey groaned, grabbing the road flare from the ground beside him and cracking it in half. It exploded with a drizzling, red light.

A few steps ahead of him was a stream of pooling gasoline.

"Ramsey… Jonah, put the flare down… you don't have to do this." Jade attempted to calm the maniac.

Ramsey shook his head in denial. "No, you don't understand…"

"Yes, I do." The Agent insisted, "What you said to me earlier… 'Fire can be delayed, but it won't be denied'… it's not just your victims. You were also talking about yourself."

Ramsey's shoulders slumped slightly. "So… so you _do_ understand…?"

"You believe you were marked by fire the night your family died." Jade analyzed.

"Yes, I… I knew then it was only a matter of time before the flames came back to finish what they started." The tall, dark man nodded.

He stepped into the stream of gasoline.

"You weren't wrong, Agent West… you almost figured it out… Robbie me, the others, the game…"

Jade's eyebrows perked up in confusion. "What do you mean? What game?" She asked.

"The one you're playing… the one you've been playing…" Ramsey answered.

A burning ember drizzled down to the ground.

"...don't you understand? It's all about _you_."

In a sudden, brilliant flash, Ramsey's body was replaced by a screaming pillar of raging orange fire. The flames followed the trail of gasoline into the house.

_Oh no…_

Jade instinctively leaped away from the house with all her strength as it exploded in a dazzling ball of flame.

The woman lifted her face from the dew-covered grass and looked back to the collapsing, fireblown home. Overhead, charred roofing tiles fluttered in the updraft like autumn leaves.

"Beck!" Jade called. No answer. "_BECK!_"

_The house went up before I could signal Beck… he didn't know to get out…_

"Beck…" Jade whispered, tears forming in her bright, blue eyes, "I'm so sorry…"

A cough.

Two coughs.

From within the smoke, a shadowy silhouette approached.

"I'll say this; you Feds sure throw one hell of a barbeque." Beck joked.

"Beck!" Jade smiled in enormous relief, throwing her arms around him and drawing him into a tight hug.

"Whoa now…" Beck let out another cough, "Good to see you, too. Where's Ramsey?" He asked.

"He… he didn't make it… what about April?" Jade frowned.

"Snuck her out and left her in the car. Was walking back to the house when the place went up." He smiled.

In the distance, sirens blared, signalling the approach of emergency vehicles.

"…So you were really worried about me, huh?" Beck smiled teasingly.

"What…? No way… I mean, you've demonstrated your survival instincts lots of times. It would've been really unlikely that…"

"You know what, Jade?" Beck frowned, speaking in an angry tone, before smiling warmly, "I'm going to take that as a yes."

An hour later, Beck and Jade sat on the rear bumper of an ambulance as Captain Vega strode up, wearing a stern look.

"Captain, I just wanted to explain that this wasn't…" Beck began to explain himself.

"I _know _what this is, Beck. I was debriefed on the ride over." Tori interrupted him. "I trust you're both okay?" She checked. The pair nodded. Tori glanced towards the ruined home and sighed heavily, "Well, the Deputy Mayor was right about one thing… Ramsey Brand's face _is_ going to be plastered on the front page of every paper. Just not quite the way he pictured it…"

"'Hero Fireman A Killer', 'Firebrand Killer Strikes', 'Killer Fireman Controversy Fans Flames in City Hall'…" Beck listed the potential headlines with a mischievous smile.

"Don't make light, detective. The _last _thing this town needed was another city employee turned mass murderer…" Tori reprimanded the man, before turning to Jade, "Jade, I need to know if there's anything you left out of your official statement." The Captain requested.

"Like what?" Beck asked.

"Like did Ramsey say anything to you about a benefactor?" Tori inquired.

Jade raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"So, Captain, you're admitting the benefactor is worth investigating?" The Agent asked.

"You followed the trail and uncovered a murderer that had gone undocumented for years… as of right now, I'm willing to give your theory the benefit of the doubt." Tori nodded.

"Thanks." Jade said, almost cracking a smile.

"I'll expect a full briefing in the morning, but right now, you two go home and get some sleep… you've earned it."

* * *

**Half an hour later…**

Beck pulled up to the curb outside Jade's apartment.

"So?" He asked.

"So what?" Jade asked back.

"I noticed that you didn't answer the Captain's question. What did Ramsey say to you? Out with it." Beck requested.

"He said… I was playing a _game_…" Jade repeated the information to her partner.

Beck wore a confused expression. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know… and the truth is, I can't deal with it right now. I promised my mother I'd check up on my sister…" Jade sighed in reluctance.

"…Anything I can do to help?" Beck offered after an awkward pause.

"No. I mean, she's probably just fooling around with her boyfriend. She left a message for my mother saying she's staying at the hotel we visited together after I graduated college and…" Jade suddenly paused, thinking deeply, "And she said I made out with a guy… why would she say that?"

"Because you were making sweet music with a studly towel boy?" Beck teased.

"No, that's just it. I wasn't, Beck. I was studying for my grad school admissions tests, and Diana got mad at me about it." Jade frowned, "She accused me of wasting a perfectly good vacation."

"Maybe she was being ironic?" Beck suggested.

"No, not Diana, not with my mom." Jade shook her head, "It just doesn't make any sense, unless…"

Jade froze. An ice-cold sensation of dread, relentless dread, surged through her veins.

"Beck, I think my sister's in trouble."

* * *

**A few days earlier…**

Ramsey Brand sat on the couch in his apartment trembling, with a phone in his hands.

"I can feel it… it's like I'm on fire from the inside… this is the one…" He said down the phone.

"Then make the most of it, Jonah." The man on the other line urged him, "I've sent you the survivor's new address. She'll be there tonight… alone. Burn bright."

The burned man hung up his cell phone. He walked through the trophy room and opened the door at the back, stepping into a pitch black room. Inside, Diana West sat tied to a chair. She looked exhausted. Dehydrated. She trembled weakly at the sight of the man.

"P…please… just let me go…"

"Patience. Not long now…" The Burned Man placed a handwritten script in front of Diana and dialled a new number. On the other end, an answering machine picked up.

"This is the West residence. Leave a message after the tone."

The Burned Man indicated the script.

"Read it." He ordered.

"I… I don't understand. You made me go over this a hundred times and I told you, Jade didn't hook up with any boys on that trip…" Diana frowned in confusion.

"Read it, Diana." The man sternly commanded. "Word for word."

* * *

**So this chapter was absolutely enormous. I wrote the whole thing out and I just _couldn't _find a suitable place to cut it in half, so you get the whole 6000+ words in one. Yay, I guess? So anyway, you guys wanted more development of the Diana storyline, so here you go! What's going to happen now that Jade is finally suspicious?**

**Like, half of the people who reviewed: IS there romance for Bade on the horizon? We'll see... what I can tell you is that something interesting is going to pop up soon...**

**NeedMoreBade: Aww, that's so nice of you to say! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story so much! Knowing that is what keeps me updating!**

**Remember to leave a review and tell me what you thought!**


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